


The Gravity Can't Hold Us

by adamganseys



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sex, eventually in the later chapters, it's complicated you shall see, they're in their twenties in this, very loosely inspired by Friends and Monica/Chandler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamganseys/pseuds/adamganseys
Summary: He and Ronan were curled around each other, Adam’s face tucked into Ronan’s chest, Ronan’s chin above his head, Ronan’s arm around his waist.The night before came back to him in a rush, and he sprung away from the other boy, who was sleeping peacefully.Fuck.(Or, the one where Ronan and Adam have been friends for years and then everything changes one night. It's all totally meaningless and casual, of course. No feelings involved at all.)





	1. Your Hands Are Outer Space

**Author's Note:**

> I really never thought I'd write a Friends with Benefits AU because I'm generally not a fan of that trope and it's hard to make it work for Pynch (especially because of Ronan's Code re: casual relationships), but then, I started a Friends rewatch and [Alex's fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13835964/chapters/31819440) (which everyone should read because it's amazing) made me want to get to the Chandler/Monica arc even faster and once I watched those episodes I was like.... wow..... hmmm.... interesting.... why are they literally Pynch..... I should write something. So, here I am. This isn't an official Friends AU or anything like Alex's, but it will be borrowing some elements from Chandler/Monica. The title is from Into It by Camila Cabello and this is 100% [Ambra's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandgutters/pseuds/starsandgutters) fault because she said it was a Pynch Song and made me look up the lyrics and she was RIGHT, it absolutely is, and works for this fic, too.

When Adam reached Gansey’s apartment on a Friday night, he knew instantly that his friend couldn’t be home. The reason being that Ronan Lynch’s terrible EDM was playing so loudly from his room that Adam could hear it standing outside the apartment door.

Ronan didn’t exactly spare his roommate from his music – or what Ronan considered music – when Gansey _was_ home, either, but he usually kept it at a bearable volume if Gansey was sleeping or studying.

Adam considered just turning back around and leaving. The walk to his place wouldn’t be too bad – it was late June in New York City, and the weather was pleasant, so it wouldn’t be much of an inconvenience.

It wasn’t that Adam didn’t enjoy Ronan’s company, though he would never admit that to him. Much as they fought all the time, they’d been friends for almost four years, and well, Ronan tended to grow on a person. Sometimes, it felt like they were closer than he was even with Gansey or his roommate and best friend, Blue. Other times…

It was just that they didn’t talk about _this_ kind of stuff. Relationship and love life kind of stuff. He usually reserved that for Gansey or Blue, or, when he felt like being grilled about his sex life in excessive detail, Henry, his other roommate.

But Adam didn’t want to be alone tonight, so he knocked on the door. Then he knocked several more times, getting progressively louder with each one.

The sixteenth knock finally did it: the music turned off, footsteps approached, a door swooshed open, and then he was staring at Ronan Lynch clad in sweatpants and no shirt.

It wasn’t like Adam hadn’t seen Ronan shirtless time and time again during the years of their friendship, so he didn’t know why he had the reaction to it that he did in that moment. He was just tired, he reasoned, and upset because of what happened. That had to be it.

When Adam just stared like an idiot, no words coming out of his mouth, Ronan broke the silence with a raised eyebrow.

“Parrish.”

“Hey.” Then, “Glad you turned that noise off. I really don’t feel like going deaf in both ears tonight.”

Adam enjoyed this kind of dry humor when he could bring himself to engage in it. It had taken a long time for him to be able to even refer to his partial deafness out loud without bursting into shame, much less allowing himself to joke about it. It took the sting out of it, somehow. So he allowed himself this with the few people who knew about his past.

Ronan just scoffed and rolled his eyes, used to the quip. “What are you doing here?”

Adam self-consciously tugged at his hair. “Um. I came by for Gansey, actually, but I guess he’s not here.”

Ronan dramatically put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “You’re saying I’m your second choice, Parrish? Ouch.”

Adam’s lips twitched in a smile. The familiarity of their banter, of Adam-and-Ronan, was immediately comforting, like taking a hot shower after a long day or eating your favorite food. Maybe it was a good thing that Gansey wasn’t here.

“Second choice? You’re not even in my top ten, Lynch.”

“Asshole,” Ronan said, grinning. Then his expression turned distasteful. “He told me he was staying at your place tonight. He’s probably doing it with the maggot.”

Adam wrinkled his nose, not fond of the image just conjured up in his brain. “I think Henry’s at home, too. Hopefully they’re keeping it down, or I won’t hear the end of his complaining.”

Ronan moved aside to wordlessly let Adam in. Adam studied the apartment as he walked inside, noting the piles of books and clothes and ancient artifacts strewn about the place. It was always in Gansey’s specific brand of disarray – that was its permanent state of being – but tonight it was considerably more cluttered than usual, to the point that there was nowhere to sit that wasn’t covered in Gansey’s stuff.

Ronan shut the door and narrowed his eyes, looking Adam up and down in a way that nearly made him flush. “If you weren’t at your apartment, where were you? It’s almost one am. Out partying?”

Adam let out a breath. “I was at Brittany’s.”

An expression flit across Ronan’s face but it was gone before Adam could name it. Then he studied Adam. “You guys have a fight?”

Adam was a little embarrassed at how quickly Ronan could read him. Or maybe he was just obvious. “You could say that.”

Ronan leaned against the door and crossed his arms, waiting for more.

Adam sighed. “We broke up.” Then he laughed, all self-deprecation. “Sorry, I meant, _she_ broke up with _me_.”

Ronan looked surprised. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, bitterness imbuing the single word.

Ronan’s eyes scanned the apartment, his face turning annoyed. “Can’t believe Dick has the nerve to complain about my room when the place looks like _this_ because of him. It’s a fucking pigsty.”

“I was wondering about that,” Adam said. “New project?”

“Who the fuck knows. I think he’s re-organizing, or something.”

“Looks like a history museum and a laundromat threw up in here.”

Ronan laughed, delighted, and Adam ignored the way his stomach flipped at hearing it. “I fucking know, man. It’s disgusting. Come on.”

They made their way over to Ronan’s room, Adam studying Ronan’s tattoo as he always did when he could get away with it. When they were inside, Adam automatically lay down on the bed with a tired sigh. The bed smelled like Ronan. Adam curled into it.

Adam had been in Ronan’s room enough times that he didn’t need to look around to know what was there. It was a conglomeration of all of Ronan’s very expensive hobbies over the years – paintings and art supplies against the walls, fancy electronics that cost more than Adam’s apartment, strange recipe books to match the cooking supplies in the kitchen. Ronan flipped through them every few months, moving onto something else when he got bored of one, then coming back to it again whenever he fancied. He hadn’t had a stable job, well, ever. Currently, he was bartending a few times a week at a club near his apartment called _Cabeswater_ , though Adam didn’t know how long that would last. Not like he needed the money, anyway, Adam thought with a substantial amount of bitterness.

Adam couldn’t live like that – he’d been planning his future since the first time he was hit. He got out of Henrietta, he attended Columbia University, and now he was making his way through grad school and interning throughout the summer.

Adam didn’t understand Ronan’s lifestyle, didn’t want it for himself, but in some ways he admired it. Or maybe he just admired Ronan.

Columbia was where Adam became friends with Gansey and Henry, during their sophomore year, as well as encountering their savage, high school dropout friend, who Adam hated at first. They’d all lived in the same area in Virginia, but Gansey and Ronan had gone to Aglionby, while Blue and Adam had gone to Mountainview High, so they never encountered each other back then. Blue moved to the city a couple years after high school, where she attended NYU. Henry was the only one not from Henrietta – he was a true Canadian, having grown up in Vancouver. It felt like some kind of fate that they all ended up here, that they all ended up as best friends.

A candy bar dropping onto his chest broke him out of his thoughts. Adam’s gaze went to Ronan standing above him, face unreadable, then to the Twix bar sitting on top of his stomach.

He should’ve been used to this by now, used to Ronan’s thoughtful gestures, but somehow he was still taken aback every time.

Ronan always kept a box of Twix bars at the apartment because he knew they were Adam’s favorite, even though neither he nor Gansey liked them. When Adam had discovered this, months ago, he’d been able to do nothing but stare at Ronan for endless seconds, mutter out an _Asshole_ , and take a large bite of the candy.

Ronan lay down beside him on the bed, and this was familiar, too, the two of them side by side, Adam on his designated side so he could face Ronan if he wanted to and have his deaf ear against the pillow, a comfortable quiet surrounding them.

Belatedly, Adam said, “Thanks,” but he placed the Twix bar on the sidetable next to him.

Ronan raised an eyebrow.

Adam shrugged as much as he could while lying down. “I’ll eat it later. Not hungry.”

Ronan’s eyebrow went higher. “Shit.” He said it like, _shit, that means you’re really upset_.

Adam groaned. “Don’t.”

Ronan scoffed. “Why not? You came here to talk to Gansey about it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and _Gansey’s_ not here.”

Ronan made a frustrated noise. “Fine, Parrish, not like I want to hear you whining about your girlfriend anyways.”

Normally, Adam would have taken the bait, would have bitten out a retort until they were both spitting fire, but he just said, in a dull voice, staring at the ceiling, “Ex-girlfriend.”

Ronan was a silent for a while. “Good riddance, if you ask me,” Ronan muttered, finally.

“Well, I’m not asking you.”

“Come on, man. She was boring.”

“You find everyone boring,” Adam replied, rolling his eyes.

“Not everyone,” Ronan said, and it came out quieter than he probably intended.

Adam turned over onto his side and looked at Ronan, only to find that Ronan has already been looking at him.

Adam swallowed. “I just—we’d been together for almost four months.” Adam laughed his self-deprecating laugh again. “And it was my longest relationship. How fucking sad is that?”

“Not that sad,” Ronan insisted. “My longest relationship was shorter than that.”

Adam was surprised to hear that, taking a minute to consider the statement. The truth was, he didn’t know much about Ronan’s past relationships. Even with his friends, Ronan was private about many things, and relationships were certainly one of them. Adam didn’t know how many he’d been in and had only met one of the guys Ronan had dated, a couple years ago, and that only happened once by accident. He didn’t think Ronan had dated anyone recently.

He knew one thing for sure, though, and that was that Ronan didn’t do casual relationships, didn’t do meaningless sex or one night stands. He’d made that very clear when he complained about his brother’s various exploits, or made a slightly judgmental face every time one of his friends referenced their hookups.

Adam didn’t operate that way. He’d had relationships, though none that were all that serious, but he’d also had plenty of casual sex, and he was fine with that.

He didn’t know why this breakup was hitting him so hard, really. It wasn’t like he was in love with her. He hadn’t been in love with anyone. He didn’t _want_ to fall in love, anyway. It was a foreign concept to him, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Still. Something felt like it was _missing_.

“So,” Adam said, “Your longest relationship was with Henry Cheng, then?”

Ronan hit him with a pillow, and Adam laughed. “You asshole.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the only who made out with Cheng.”

“I was nineteen, Parrish! I can’t be expected to make good decisions at that age.”

At that age, Adam was pining over Blue Sargent, so he was inclined to agree. Still, he found it endlessly amusing that Cheng was Ronan’s first kiss, and apparently, so did Henry, because he never let Ronan – or anyone else – forget it, bringing it up at the most random and inopportune moments. According to Henry, they were enemies at the time with simmering sexual tension that finally broke during a party freshman year. Ronan constantly denied the sexual tension part, claiming that Henry was a terrible kisser anyways.

“Well, at least your bad decisions improved with age,” Adam sighed. “Can’t say the same for myself.”

Ronan was quiet for a while, then he said, voice tentative, eyes boring into Adam’s, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Adam closed his eyes. “I know.” Then he let out a tired breath, giving into his urge to talk about it, to lay it all out and analyze the details, the way he planned to with Gansey. He kept his eyes closed. “I just… I knew it wasn’t working, anyway. We’d been distant for weeks. I don’t even think…” Adam swallowed. “I don’t even know if my feelings for her were that strong, honestly. But…”

When Adam didn’t continue, Ronan prompted, “But?”

Adam opened his eyes, and Ronan was still looking at him in that intense way of his. This, too, was something Adam should’ve been used to, but it was always a bit unnerving. “But… I don’t know. My last couple relationships ended like this, too.”

“Like what?”

Adam huffed. “You know. Getting dumped.”

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, because every time it happened, Adam ended up sort of relieved in the long run, knowing the relationship had been going nowhere, knowing that it wasn’t working, knowing that he wasn’t as invested as he wanted to be.

It still stung, somehow. That he wasn’t good enough. It was like freshman year of college all over again, Blue breaking up with him over the phone and him being devastated, and then two years later, Blue starting to date Gansey and the wound in Adam getting deeper, more painful, instead of healing. He was over that now, had been over it for a while, but the insecurities clung to him in a way he couldn’t entirely escape.

“So next time, dump them before they can dump you,” Ronan deadpanned.

“Thanks, Lynch. That’s really helpful.”

“What I’m here for.”

Adam let out a forlorn sound. “I guess I can’t blame her. I’m not exactly easy to be with.”

He didn’t mean to say that, but the thought came out without his permission, as they often did around Ronan.

It was true, though – all the hours Adam worked and studied, barely allowing time for anyone else, the way he got distant sometimes, the way anger coated him like a second skin. He’d come a long way from the boy he was in high school, sure, but some scars lingered, and not everyone was willing to deal with them.

He wasn’t an easy person to want, to care about, to love. Which is why most people didn’t.

Ronan’s gaze was hot and unforgiving on his. “Fuck that. Easy’s overrated. I’m not easy.”

Adam snorted. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Ronan poked him in the ribs, Adam responded with a slap on his arm, causing Ronan to ruffle Adam’s hair so that it was messier than it already was and strands fell in his eyes.

“Asshole,” Adam said, cheerier than before.

Ronan smiled sharply. His hand lingered in Adam’s hair. He brushed strands out of his eyes, his fingers gentle and hesitant, the warmth of them searing on Adam’s temple.

The air seemed to be sucked out of the room, suddenly. Adam hadn’t realized how close they were until now. Their heads were on their respective pillows, but there were only inches between them. He was hyperaware of Ronan’s fingers carding through his hair. His eyes drifted to Ronan’s naked chest and catalogued what he saw: collarbones, nipples, abs, dark hair trailing down from the navel. His gaze snapped back up to Ronan’s face again.

“Blue and Gansey have been especially nauseating lately,” Adam said, just to break the unbearable tension.  

Ronan exhaled, and dropped his hand onto the sheets between them. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“I heard him talking about _weddings_ a few days ago.”

“You’re kidding. He’s not—“

“No,” Adam said quickly. “Definitely not. Blue doesn’t want to until she’s like, thirty, anyways. It was just weird, I guess. He sounded all wistful about it and—I don’t know. It’s weird to be around them.”

“Why? Because you want that? Dreaming of that white picket fence life?” Ronan leveled him with a knowing look.

Adam flushed. “ _No_.”

It was fine not to have had a super serious relationship, he reasoned. He was turning twenty-four in a couple weeks, sure, but it was fine. He didn’t want that. It was too much work, and it was bound to fail anyways.

“Oh, I got it,” Ronan said, then. “You still have it bad for Sargent.”

Adam whacked Ronan in the chest, and Ronan laughed. Feeling slightly crazed, Adam let his hand stay there, palm spread out, thumb touching Ronan’s collarbone.

“I’m going to kill you,” Adam said, breathier than he intended.

Ronan smirked, but there was a nervous edge to it. “No, you won’t. Your life would be boring as fuck without me.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it. He dropped his hand.

Then, slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Adam said, “What about you?”

“What about me? Do I have it bad for Sargent? I’m gay, in case you forgot.”

Adam gave him a withering look.  “You know what I mean. Do _you_ want something like what they have?”

Ronan’s expression shuttered, as Adam expected it would. “I don’t see any great prospects lining up in front of me, Parrish.”

That wasn’t true, but Adam didn’t point that out. “That doesn’t really answer the question.” When Ronan didn’t say anything, Adam asked, “When was the last time you even dated someone?”

“Who fucking knows. A year and a half. Two years, maybe.”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Ronan scoffed. “Yeah, it’s been a while. Don’t know why you sound so surprised.”

“I mean, it’s obviously not for a lack of interest from others,” Adam couldn’t help saying. Someone like Ronan being single for that long just didn’t make sense to him. “I noticed at least two people at my internship checking you out when you picked me up that day.”

Ronan made a derisive sound. “Not my type.”

“You don’t even know who I’m talking about.”

“Still, not my type.”

“So, the reason you’re single is obviously because you’re unreasonably picky.”

“Having standards isn’t _picky_. Sorry I don’t want to date some boring loser like _Brittany_.” He sneered the last word.

Adam bristled. “Oh, fuck you. Do you really have to be such a dick all the time?”

“Whatever,” Ronan muttered.

Adam stewed. He never should have brought up dating. Ronan got prickly about the weirdest things.

Now he was thinking about Brittany again. They’d met through his internship, actually, even though she ended up choosing something else. They were both at the interview for it, months ago, and on some strange whim, he’d asked her out. It’d been nice, for a while. Steady, stable.  

“Hey, cheer up, dumbass.”

Adam’s eyes had glazed over, but now they stilled on Ronan, who was suddenly looking at him with earnestness. He guessed his face must have betrayed what he was thinking about.

“I’m perfectly cheery,” Adam said, but his voice was shaky. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just going to be alone forever, that’s all.”

Ronan’s eyebrows were knitted, his eyes boring a hole through Adam. “Relax, Parrish. You’re a fucking catch. I’m sure there are plenty of guys or girls wanting to date you.”

Adam startled a bit at the words, the compliment surprising him, warmth rushing through him, settling in his ears and a little in his cheeks.

Of course, Ronan had to ruin it. “Really. Lots of people are into nerds with terrible taste in music.”

Adam scoffed, a smile twitching at his lips despite his best efforts. “Thanks.” Then, with a glum edge, he added, “But I highly doubt it.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ronan said, his fingers suddenly on Adam’s cheek. Adam sucked in a quiet breath.

The way Ronan was looking at him, it was different, more, than anything before. He felt _seen_.

Ronan’s voice was low, hushed, and Adam felt his next words everywhere in his body. “Who the hell wouldn’t want you?”

Time seemed to stop. Adam looked at Ronan, and Ronan looked at him. Adam could feel Ronan’s unsteady breaths on his face, on his lips. Ronan’s fingers were burning holes into his skin, just from the gentle brush of them on his cheekbone.

Adam’s eyes drifted down to Ronan’s lips. Ronan’s drifted down to Adam’s.

Adam didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he _wanted_.

He moved forward, just a little. He heard Ronan swallow. Their noses bumped, and Ronan inhaled.

Adam felt suspended in the moment, the air between them crackling and quiet at the same time, their lips only a breath apart.

Finally, he took the plunge, gently capturing Ronan’s bottom lip between his.

He pulled back just a little, and they were staring at each other again, eyes wide, unsure, wanting.

Then it was Ronan who leaned in, and then they were kissing, properly kissing, messy and desperate. Ronan’s hand on his cheek traveled back to his nape, fingers tangling in his hair, making Adam groan softly. Adam opened his mouth, their tongues wrapping around each other, the sensation going right to Adam’s groin.

Adam rolled onto his back and pulled Ronan on top of him, the other boy easily obliging, somehow without breaking the kiss. Adam did what he’d wanted to for ages – he snaked his arms around Ronan and splayed his hands along Ronan’s tattoo, his strong shoulder blades under Adam’s long fingers. Ronan bit his lip in response, and Adam arched up into him. They were pressed up against each other, no space between them.

Ronan’s lips traveled to the corner of Adam’s mouth, his chin, his jaw, down the line of his throat. Adam was panting loudly, feeling like he could barely breathe. One of his hands clutched the back of Ronan’s head, the prickly hair of his buzzcut pleasant against Adam’s skin.

Adam could feel where Ronan was hard against his thigh, and Adam was sure Ronan could feel him, too.

Adam was no stranger to lust, to hunger, but this was something else. He couldn’t think. Everywhere was Ronan’s skin, Ronan’s hands, Ronan’s scent, _Ronan_. It’d never been like _this_ before.

Adam pulled Ronan back up so he could kiss him again, hard and searing, making him feel everything he hadn’t felt for so long.

Ronan’s mouth was on his jaw, biting, then on his earlobe, making Adam gasp and hiss in pleasure. Without thinking about it, Adam snaked a hand between their bodies, trailed it down Ronan’s chest, then undid the string of Ronan’s sweatpants.

Ronan froze above him. He lifted his head and looked at Adam. Their foreheads were nearly touching.

“Adam,” Ronan said, and his voice was wrecked.

“Just—“ Adam swallowed. His brain wasn’t cooperating with him. “Shut up.”

Ronan breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment, then kissed Adam with double the intensity.

When Adam’s hand reached into Ronan’s sweats, under his boxers, and gripped Ronan, Ronan spit out a _fuck_ against his mouth, nearly biting Adam’s lip.

He intended to stroke him slowly, a little sweet, but his hand had a mind of his own, and he felt too animalistic and desperate to be anything other than harsh and rough. It was an awkward angle, his hand cramping a little, still having to touch him under his pants, but Ronan didn’t seem to mind. Adam kissed him through it, though Ronan was too far gone to reciprocate the majority of the time.

Ronan came with a groan, and Adam wanted to remember the sound forever. He reached clumsily for the box of tissues next to him and wiped his hand while Ronan recovered, face pressed against Adam’s neck, breathing hard.

After a few moments, Ronan lifted his head and stared at Adam. Then, purposefully, he sat back on his heels and looked down at him, gaze traveling from his face to his torso to the bulge in his jeans. Adam closed his eyes, his breath coming out in audible huffs.

Ronan undid Adam’s belt, then the button and zipper on his jeans. Eyes still closed, Adam lifted his hips so Ronan could take the jeans off him and throw them on the floor. It was too slow for Adam, and he could feel Ronan’s burning gaze on him the entire time, making him squirm, so he opened his eyes and pulled Ronan down and then they were kissing again.

Ronan hastily pulled down Adam’s boxers and took him into his hand, and Adam was glad that they were kissing and that Ronan wasn’t looking at him, because he didn’t know if he could take that.

Soon, Ronan started sucking bruises into the hollow of Adam’s throat, and Adam gasped and arched into Ronan’s hand as he touched him. His hands were fists in the sheets, gripping so hard he was worried they’d tear. He turned his face into his pillow, trying to muffle the whimpers coming out of him when Ronan mouthed at the sensitive spot behind his ear, when Ronan pulled his t-shirt down to lick at his collarbone.

He came with a gasp, or maybe it was Ronan’s name. For his own sake, he hoped it was the former.

Ronan tucked him back into his underwear and sat back on his heels, taking Adam’s hand from where it was still clutched in the sheets and bringing it to his mouth. He kissed the pads of Adam’s fingers, then curled them in and kissed his knuckles, eyelashes low over his eyes.

Adam felt light and dreamy and imaginary.  

His eyes drooped shut. He could feel Ronan watching him. He heard Ronan move around, maybe cleaning up the mess. A weight collapsed beside him on the bed.

His brain felt like mush. He was exhausted, but in a good way.

He opened his eyes and turned his head. Ronan was already looking at him.

Adam's voice was heavy, as if he was speaking through glass. “’M tired,” he murmured, his Henrietta accent on full display.

Ronan just said, “Yeah.”

“We should sleep.”

“Okay. Let’s sleep.”

Adam nodded, or he thought he did.

He turned on his side so he was facing Ronan and closed his eyes. Ronan got up briefly to turn the lights off, and then he lay down beside Adam, pulling the blanket up so it was covering both of them.

He didn’t know about Ronan, but Adam was asleep within seconds.

 

*

 

Adam was exceptionally warm when he woke up. His face was pressed against something soft, but hairy, and he rubbed his nose into it like a cat, sighing pleasantly.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he squinted at the sight in front of him.

He and Ronan were curled around each other, Adam’s face tucked into Ronan’s chest, Ronan’s chin above his head, Ronan’s arm around his waist.

The night before came back to him in a rush, and he sprung away from the other boy, who was sleeping peacefully.

 _Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think, what you liked about it or if you have any constructive criticism! I am terrible at AU's and developing the background details and such of an AU so if any of that is confusing or whatever, feel free to tell me. Comments and kudos are always super appreciated. Not sure how long this'll be or how often updates will be. I'm winging this fic and initially I thought I'd be able to write it as a long one shot but, the concept is getting away from me, so we'll see.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @adamparrush and twitter @peyttonsawyers.


	2. But What Will We Do When We're Sober?

_What the hell did he do?_

It felt like a dream. It had to have been a dream. But if it was a dream, it was the most vivid, real one Adam had ever had.

He could remember Ronan’s scalding touch on his skin, the way his soft lips felt against his own, the sounds Ronan made while Adam got him off, the sounds Adam made in turn.

 _God_.

How could he let this happen? This was _Ronan_. One of Adam’s best friends, someone Adam couldn’t imagine his life without. He’d possibly just ruined everything.

Adam stared at Ronan’s sleeping form. He looked so peaceful. It certainly wasn’t the first time Adam had seen Ronan asleep. The other boy often crashed at Adam’s apartment on the floor of his room, even though there was a perfectly intact couch, even though Ronan had a bed and apartment of his own. Ronan never told him why he did it and Adam never asked. He didn’t mind, anyways, even though Blue and Henry gave him shit for it ( _Ronan always finishes my cereal in the morning_ , Blue whined); in fact, Adam greatly appreciated the nights that Ronan stayed over. Sometimes they wouldn’t speak at all, sitting or sleeping in comfortable silence, or Ronan wasting time while Adam got work done, and other times they’d talk late into the night, about anything and everything.

Sometimes Adam would study Ronan while he slept. Not in a _creepy_ way, he just… found it fascinating. How Ronan’s harsh edges got softer, how he looked younger and more vulnerable. It was _interesting._ Ronan was interesting, a puzzle that Adam wanted to solve and take apart, like the engine of a car or an abstract painting. They’d been friends for years and yet Adam always found there was something new to learn about him, some hidden corner that Ronan had yet to reveal.

So, no, Adam wasn’t a stranger to a sleeping Ronan Lynch. But Adam didn’t think he’d ever seen Ronan look this serene.

Then again, maybe this was how Ronan always looked the morning after he got laid. Adam wouldn’t know.

God, _god_.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? Wake Ronan up? And then what? _Morning, Lynch. Want to get some breakfast? Oh, how was your orgasm last night? Mine was pretty great, so thanks for that_.

For a small, shameful moment, Adam thought that maybe he should just leave while Ronan was sleeping, but Adam dismissed it only a second later.

No matter the awkwardness to come, Adam couldn’t do that. He wasn’t _that_ person. He’d never slipped out in the morning, even with his one night stands who were total strangers.

It would be pointless, anyway. This was Ronan. He’d see him again no matter how hard he tried to avoid him.

Adam let out a loud sigh, and it was that moment that Ronan started to wake up.

Adam froze, not prepared for this whatsoever.

Ronan’s eyes fluttered open, and he didn’t seem to register Adam at first, simply rubbing his eyes and blinking up at the ceiling. Then he spotted Adam sitting next to him, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Adam could tell the exact moment that Ronan remembered what happened the night before.

The other boy’s eyes widened and he sat up quickly, startling Adam a bit.

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them knowing what to do or say. Finally, Ronan opened his mouth, seemingly about to break the ice, but then he just closed it and grit his teeth in silence, averting his eyes.

Jesus. Adam really fucked up.

A door shut somewhere outside.

“Ronan?” Gansey’s voice sounded through the walls, somewhere in the apartment. Footsteps approached.

“ _Shit_ ,” Adam hissed. “Gansey’s here.”

Ronan didn’t respond, looking way too calm about the situation, so Adam had to think quickly. He buried himself under the covers and lay as flat as possible, his head turned to face Ronan’s lap, face nearly smushed into Ronan’s thigh.

“What are you doing?” Ronan whispered furiously.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Adam whispered back, annoyed. “I’m hiding.”

Ronan scoffed, and Adam heard the door to his room open. He held his breath.

“Ronan. You’re awake,” Gansey said.

“Christ, Dick, do you ever fucking knock?”

Gansey ignored this. “I’m surprised you’re up this early.”

“Why? Wanted to do your walk of shame without a witness?”

“It’s not a _walk of shame_.”

“Really, if you wanted to stay over to fuck the maggot, you could’ve called.”

“Jesus, Ronan, do you always have to be so crude? And it’s not like _you_ tell me when you go over there to sleep with Adam.”

Adam froze in shock.

Ronan sputtered. “I— _What?_ I don’t—we’re not—“

“Yes, yes, I know, you’re just sleeping there, not the best comparison, but my point is I don’t have to tell you every time I stay over somewhere else.”

“Fine, don’t tell me, I don’t give a shit. Now would you get the fuck out of my room?”

“What crawled up your ass this morning, Lynch?” Gansey bit out. “You know what, I don’t even want to know. Just came in here to tell you that we’re all going out tonight. That new cheesecake place Henry wanted to try.”

“I hate cheesecake,” Ronan said. “And I’m bartending tonight. Now get out.”

Adam heard Gansey let out a frustrated noise, and Adam thought he was finally leaving, but instead, he asked, “Did you hear from Adam last night?”

Ronan tensed. “No. Why?”

“He didn’t come back to his apartment. And Blue hadn’t heard from him.”

Ronan snorted. “What did you _just_ tell me, Gansey? Parrish can take care of himself. We’re all adults here.”

“I know, but Blue was worried.”

“He was probably at his girlfriend’s place.” Ronan said the word _girlfriend_ like it was something distasteful.

Gansey made a thoughtful sound. “I don’t know. It didn’t seem like they’d been getting along that well lately.”

“I wouldn’t know what Parrish and his girlfriend are up to. Now, for the love of Christ, get the fuck out and let me go back to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. If you hear from Adam, though, let him know Blue’s looking for him.”

“Whatever.”

The door finally slammed shut.

Ronan let out a large breath.

It was probably time for Adam to get out from under the covers. Adam didn’t particularly want to do that, though. He liked his place under Ronan’s warm blanket, so much warmer than the one he had at his own apartment. He liked the view of Ronan’s thighs, too.

Adam wondered what Gansey would’ve thought if he’d seen Adam there. Maybe nothing. He did still have his t-shirt and boxers on – and thank god for _that_. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d woken up completely _naked_ in Ronan Lynch’s bed. Or if Ronan had been completely naked. Jesus.

Maybe Gansey would’ve just thought they were two friends, hanging out, and Adam fell asleep. That was plausible. More plausible than what had actually happened, anyways.

“He’s gone, Parrish, you can come out of your hole now,” Ronan said, dry and emotionless.

Adam lifted the covers and sat up, running a hand through his hair. It probably looked ridiculous. Ronan had made fun of his bedhead multiple times when he stayed over.

Adam wondered if this morning it counted as sex hair. He didn’t think they’d done enough for him to get sex hair, really. He was abruptly glad that they didn’t go further than handjobs the night before. That they didn’t—

He needed to stop that line of thought.

He finally looked at Ronan, who was already looking at him.

“Morning,” Adam said.

“Your hair looks ridiculous,” Ronan replied.

Adam scoffed. “Original. Not like you’ve told me that a million times before.”

Ronan smirked, but there was something of an edge to it. A nervousness. Then he asked, tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if they were the right words and was hoping he’d figure it out along the way, “Are you… okay?”

Adam cleared his throat, looked down at his lap, then back at Ronan. “Um. Yeah. You?”

Ronan just nodded.

Something came back to Adam and his eyes widened in alarm. “Shit. What time is it?”

“It’s eight. Why?”

“ _Shit_. I was supposed to meet Blue for this environmental exhibit—that’s probably why she was looking for me—“ He stood up hastily, looking around the room without any idea of what he was looking for. What was he missing?

“This early?”

“Yeah, it’s in Brooklyn and apparently there’s a line—I have to go.”

Ronan didn’t respond, and Adam finally remembered what he was searching for. Pants. He was missing pants.

“Um.” Adam let out a breath, and he could feel his ears turning red. “I can’t find my jeans.”

He vividly remembered Ronan taking them off the night before. He vividly remembered a lot more than that.

“Oh,” Ronan said, then stood up and scanned the room. His eyes pointedly skipped over where Adam was standing. Adam wondered if it was really necessary for Ronan’s boxers to be _that_ low on his hips.

Moments later, Ronan picked up pants from under the bed and tossed them at Adam.

“Thanks,” Adam muttered, then turned around and hastily put them on, zipping and buttoning them up securely. Ridiculously, he felt self-conscious, his face burning, as if he were doing something indecent by putting clothes on.

But of course, the indecent part had happened last night.

He took his phone from the sidetable, and his eyes landed on the Twix bar that Ronan had given him. His chest suddenly felt a little tight. He grabbed the candy bar and turned around. Ronan was standing a few feet away, staring at the ground.

“I—uh. I should go,” Adam said, voice dry.

They could talk about what happened later, he reasoned. He was getting late, and he couldn’t even begin to know how to address this yet. It would do him some good to clear his head. He wasn’t running away. He wasn’t.

Ronan nodded, impassive, giving Adam nothing. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you later?” Adam said, the words coming out more unsure than he intended.

“Yeah, Parrish.”

Adam left.

 

*

 

It was easy to avoid Ronan. Adam was busy, and Ronan was busy, and they both had things to do. That was obviously the reason why neither of them went over to each other’s apartments.

Adam was going crazy, trying not to think about it, inevitably thinking about it even more.

The thing was, Adam could rationalize what happened on his end. He was sad about his breakup. He was lonely. He wasn’t thinking.

And it’s not like he’d never thought about Ronan that way – he’d thought about _all_ his friends that way at some point or another. Adam wasn’t blind. Ronan was insanely attractive, that was just a fact.

But Adam didn’t know what Ronan was thinking. Ronan had kissed him back, had seemed responsive, but maybe he was just following Adam’s lead, maybe he was taking pity on Adam’s loneliness and desperation. Maybe Ronan was lonely and desperate, too. Adam knew it had been a while since he’d dated anyone, at least.

They could easily write it off just as that, both of them being lonesome, but Adam wondered if it was possible to get past all the awkwardness the situation caused. If it were anyone else, any other friend, Adam might say yes. But this was _Ronan_. He didn’t know why that made it different, but it did.

He supposed he wouldn’t know until he actually talked to Ronan. Fuck.

Adam thought the night was written all over him, but none of his friends seemed to notice. Blue and Henry were sympathetic about the breakup, but their questions were limited to Brittany and Adam’s mental state.

Of course they didn’t ask about Ronan. Why would they? It was only Adam whose thoughts were consumed with him.

 

*

 

“Stop looking so depressed, Adam,” Blue said.

“I’d look less depressed if you hadn’t dragged me here when I’m already tired from work,” Adam retorted.

Blue waved her hand in dismissal. “Please. I've had a long day too. This isn’t about work. You need to get out and stop moping about Brittany all day.”

“I wasn’t _moping_ ,” Adam said, insulted. “I just didn’t feel like seeing anyone tonight, okay?”

“And yesterday, and the night before that.”

Adam sighed. It was useless arguing with Blue. She had taken it upon herself to improve Adam’s mood, apparently unaware that she was just making it worse.

It was Monday night and they were at Nino’s, a midtown pizzeria close to their apartments that they hung out at all the time. When Blue and Adam entered and spotted the others sitting at their usual booth in the back, Adam froze.

“I thought Lynch was bartending tonight,” Adam hissed, the panic clear in his voice.

“I think he changed his shifts this week. Why?” Blue frowned. “Are you two fighting?”

 _Were_ they fighting? Adam didn’t know. They hadn’t seen each other in three days.

Blue got a sly smile on her face and started walking faster.

“Blue, don’t,” Adam whispered furiously.

But of course, Blue did. She reached the table first and sat next to Gansey and Henry so that Adam would have no choice but to take the seat beside Ronan. This was how their seating arrangements often ended up either way, but Blue knew that Adam wouldn’t want to sit next to Ronan tonight. Based on misguided assumptions, sure, but Adam was screwed anyways.

He cursed under his breath and resigned himself to finally having to face the other man.

Ronan looked up from his drink and caught Adam’s eye as he reached the table. For a moment they just stared at each other, suspended in time, and then Ronan looked down again. Guilt and anxiety rose up inside Adam, but he had no choice. He sat down next to Ronan, nearly at the edge of the seat so that they weren’t touching.

“Parrish! Did you get my present this morning?” Henry asked, voice obnoxiously loud and cheery, which was the norm for him.

Adam gave Henry a small smile. “Thanks, Henry. It was really good.”

Adam had walked into the main room of their apartment, bleary eyed and exhausted, to a delicious smelling omelette on the kitchen table, cooked just the way Adam liked it. He usually didn’t have more than cereal or toast in the mornings, not having the time or the patience to go fancier, but Henry was an excellent cook and treated Adam and Blue whenever he felt like it, and he felt like it often. It was one of the perks of being roommates with him.

“Well, you’ve been spectacularly down the past few days. I thought you needed a little cheering up.”

Adam sighed. He should’ve known they’d get here, somehow. “Cheng, I don’t need cheering up. I’m fine.”

Henry scoffed. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“No offense, Adam,” Gansey interjected. “But he’s right. You don’t look too well.”

“I’m just tired,” Adam insisted.

The truth was he wasn’t fine, but not for the reason they all thought. The thoughts of Brittany had been there over the weekend, but that had been a dull ache compared to the glaring wound of something else.

“But—“

“Look, I’ve already got Blue and Henry on my case all the time,” Adam snapped. “I don’t need you, too, okay?” Then he sighed, putting his fingers to his temple. “That relationship was on its last legs, anyway. I’m… fine. Really.”

“That’s what denial sounds like, my friend,” Henry quipped.

Adam groaned, at the edge of his patience for his well meaning but incredibly irritating friends. “Jesus Christ. I don’t harass any of _you_ when you have a breakup.”

“Well, to be fair, they do tend to happen to you quite a bit more often than to the rest of us,” Gansey pointed out.

The table was silent for a long, awful moment.

“Thanks, Gansey,” Adam bit out. “I feel much better now.”

Blue punched Gansey on the shoulder. “Great job.”

Gansey looked miserable. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Ganseyboy, know when to shut up,” Henry said. “Ignore him, Adam. Take my advice.”

“I don’t need your advice, Cheng,” Adam muttered.

“Oh, you absolutely do. So listen closely. My advice to get over your heartbreak—“

“ _It’s not heartbreak_ —“

“—is to do yourself a favor and get laid.”

Adam choked on his water.

“I mean it. Find a hot girl or guy at a bar somewhere and have one night of amazing, meaningless sex and you’ll forget all your troubles.”

Adam covered his face in his hands, knowing he was turning red. “Henry, please shut up.”

“What? It’s worked for me in the past. And you’re attractive, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone who wants to sleep with you. Hell, I’d offer, but somehow I don’t think you’d be up for that.”

There was a snort from beside Adam. “Well, if you fuck anything like you kiss, Cheng, I would hope Parrish isn’t up for it, for his sake,” Ronan drawled, voice casual and piercing, washing over Adam like an electric shock. It was the first time Ronan had spoken since Adam got here.

Adam dropped his hands and turned to look at the other boy, who was staring resolutely ahead, expression bored.

Henry made a kissing noise at him. “Why don’t you come over here and find out, Lynch? I’ll take you back to my place and show you _exactly_ how I fuck.”

“And relive the worst mistake of my life? No thanks.”

Henry grinned at Blue. “See? He wants me.”

Adam felt something burning inside him at the exchange, and he mentally shook himself. He really needed to get out of here. He had a headache.  

Ronan just rolled his eyes, then finally looked sideways at Adam. Their eyes met for a moment, and Adam was taken back to Friday night, Ronan’s lips hard and desperate on his.

Adam looked away. 

He simply told Henry, “You give terrible advice.”

“You won’t be saying that when you’re in bed with someone else sometime soon,” Henry retorted. “Just don’t do it at our apartment – I’ve walked in on you _way_ too many times for comfort.”

“ _One_ time, and that was your fault.”

“We all agreed no sex on the living room sofa!”

“Jesus, say it louder, will you?” Adam hissed. “And I can’t help what happened in the heat of the moment. Now please, can switch to another topic? Harrass Blue and Gansey about their relationship.”

Henry made a face. “I don’t need to harass them about it. I heard it all through the walls.”

Gansey and Blue both turned an unflattering shade of magenta.

They squabbled through the rest of dinner, and thankfully the subject left Adam’s disaster of a love life. Adam was hyperaware of Ronan next to him, who didn’t say more than a few words the entire night. He was supremely frustrated, having absolutely no idea what was going on in Ronan’s head. He didn’t seem angry, at least, which should have been a relief. But all Adam could feel was dread. He didn’t know what he’d do if things between them were really ruined for good.

At one point their knees bumped underneath the table, and their fingers brushed as they reached for the pizza, and Adam nearly jumped out of the seat. They didn’t look at each other.

“Why are you so quiet tonight, Ronan?” Gansey asked near the end.

Blue snorted. “Because he’s usually so talkative.”

Ronan just scowled at both of them.

“It’s probably because he and Adam are fighting again,” Blue said.

“No, we’re not,” Adam said immediately.

“Mind your own fucking business, Sargent,” Ronan snarled.

Blue rolled her eyes. “Right. Whatever.”

Blue, Gansey, and Henry went back to talking amongst themselves, about Venezuela or something or the other. Adam wasn’t paying attention.

He rubbed his eyes, pressing the heels of his palms to them and letting out an exhausted sigh. There was a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Ronan said, voice low, and Adam looked at him. His eyes were concerned, the first real emotion he’d shown all night. “You okay?”

Adam swallowed. He felt the heat from Ronan’s skin through his shirt. “Yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

Ronan nodded solemnly. “Anyone would be, listening to these idiots talk.”

Adam laughed. Ronan removed his hand from Adam’s shoulder, and Adam missed the touch immediately.

“Hey,” Henry pouted. “Are you two making fun of us?”

“How’d you know?” Adam deadpanned, at the same time Ronan said, “Always.”

“Oh, how I love it when they team up,” Henry sighed.

“Alright. It’s getting late. We should go,” Gansey said.

Minutes later, they were out into the summer night, a pleasant breeze on their faces. Adam breathed it in, some fresh air a relief after all that suffocation.  

“Ronan, I think we’re out of orange juice. Could you go get some?” Gansey said.

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “You can’t get it yourself?”

“I believe it’s your turn.”

Ronan sighed. “Just say you want some alone time with the maggot.”

Blue stuck her tongue out at him and gave him the finger, and then she and Gansey went in the direction of Gansey’s apartment.

Henry was waiting around so he and Adam could walk back to theirs together, but Adam took a deep breath and said, “Henry, you go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Adam nodded, and when they were finally alone, he turned back to Ronan, who was already looking at him.

“I gotta go to the store, Parrish,” Ronan said, starting to turn away.

Adam grabbed Ronan’s arm, right above his elbow, and Ronan stilled. “Wait.” Adam tried to move past the lump in his throat. Words were absurdly hard to get out. “I… We should… We should talk.”

Ronan looked at him for a long moment, and Adam dropped his hand. Finally, Ronan said, “Okay. But let’s get some orange juice first and give the parents time to make out, or Gansey will have my head.”

Adam coughed out a laugh. “Okay.”

They walked a block to the store in silence, hands in pockets. Adam felt Ronan glance at him and away. This was familiar, walking the streets of the city side by side, but what was unfamiliar was the thick tension between them. Even when they were fighting – and they fought often – it had been easier to deal with than whatever this was.

They didn’t speak as Ronan walked down the aisles of the grocery store. Once Ronan grabbed the orange juice, he started wandering the other aisles.

Adam gave him a questioning look. “Did you need something besides the juice?”

Ronan didn’t answer, just kept walking. Adam sighed, exasperated.

Then he startled when he saw Ronan grab a bag of Twix.

“Ronan, I already have enough at my apartment.”

Ronan just stared at him. Inexplicably, Adam’s ears turned red.

He huffed and muttered, “Thanks.”

Ronan shrugged, and they rang the stuff up at the register. Adam tried to pay for the Twix, but Ronan batted his hands away. Adam felt flustered enough when their hands touched that he didn’t protest any further.

He felt transported back in time to a few years ago, at another grocery store somewhere outside the city. They’d been someplace that Gansey had dragged both of them despite their reluctance, and they’d eventually wandered off on their own. They had only just become friends, still getting to know each other and clashing more often than not.

Ronan had pointed to the empty shopping cart in the back parking lot, and for some reason unbeknownst to him, Adam got in without hesitation. The night had ended in scabs and two breathless boys on the rough gravel, staring up at the starless sky.

“Man,” Ronan had said, still breathing hard from the exhilaration. “There were so many more stars back home.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, though he didn’t quite agree with the use of the word _home_. He’d wondered how they never crossed paths back in Henrietta. He’d wondered what home looked like for Ronan.

“I miss it,” Ronan confessed, and his voice was softer than Adam had ever heard it back then.

“I don’t,” Adam replied.

Now, they walked back to the apartment, so much closer than they’d been in those days. And yet Adam felt there was suddenly an ocean’s distance between them, in a way that there hadn’t been in years.

At least the noise of the city made up for their silence. It was barely eleven, and the streets were alive with people. A guy nearly slammed into Ronan as he was walking past them and Ronan gave him the finger.

“Behave, Lynch,” Adam chastised.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Sorry, _Gansey_.”

When they finally reached the building and took the elevator to their floor, Adam’s heart started beating faster and his hands felt clammy. He didn’t feel ready for this conversation. He wanted to go home and avoid Ronan for a few more days.

They opened the apartment door to the sight of Blue and Gansey making out on the couch.

“Christ!” Ronan exclaimed, slamming the door behind them and covering his eyes in horror. “You have a fucking bedroom, Gansey.”

“Well,” Gansey said, looking sheepish, “I think Adam will confirm that sometimes it’s hard to make it to the bedroom in the heat of the moment.”

“Now I know what Cheng felt like,” Adam muttered.

“Not fair,” Blue protested. “According to Henry, you were in a much more compromising position, Adam.”

Adam sighed. “We got your orange juice, Gansey.”

“Thank you. Are you staying over?”

Adam shook his head. “No, I won’t be here long. I just need to talk to Ronan about something.”

“You two finally resolving your fight?”

“ _We weren’t fighting_.”

“Sure,” Gansey said.

“Let’s talk in your room,” Adam suggested to Ronan.

“You go on ahead,” Ronan said. “I’m gonna put this shit in the kitchen.”

As Adam shut Ronan’s bedroom door behind him, he heard Gansey say, “Could you pour me a glass of juice, Ronan?” and Ronan reply, “Pour it yourself, Dick.”

Adam waited anxiously for Ronan, pacing around the room, sitting at the edge of the bed, then deciding against it and standing up again. What was taking Ronan so long?

Just as he was about to go to the kitchen and check on him, Ronan walked into the bedroom. He closed the door slowly, taking his time turning back around to face Adam.

Adam’s hands were in his pockets and he repressed the urge to stare at his feet.

He exhaled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ronan said, and it was quiet.

Once again, Ronan’s face was giving away nothing. He didn’t seem eager to say anything or move from his place by the door, so Adam guessed Ronan was expecting him to make the first move. That was fair, Adam supposed. He _was_ the one who initiated things that night.

He cleared his throat. “Look, about Friday night…”

Ronan crossed his arms, staring at Adam expectantly. Adam gritted his teeth. Ronan was so _not_ making this easy. But when did Ronan Lynch ever make things easy?

Adam sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“ He swallowed audibly, his tongue feeling like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I was just—I was really upset. About Brittany. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was sad, and you were there, and you were a good kisser, and—I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

He finally shut up, though he was tempted to keep word vomiting.

Ronan was still looking at him impassively, and after a few moments, he just said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Adam repeated, bewildered.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

Adam ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t in the mood to parse through Ronan’s words to figure out what he actually meant. “I just don’t want things to be weird.”

“Things aren’t weird,” Ronan said immediately.

Adam scoffed. “Ronan. Come on.”

“Okay, they’re a little weird. But—we’re fine.”

Adam frowned. “But—“

“Parrish. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, alright? I mean,” and here Ronan faltered, his mask slipping, uncertainty peeking through, “I was there too. I didn’t exactly stop you.”

Ice flooded Adam’s veins. “You didn’t _stop_ me? Ronan—“

“I didn’t _want_ to stop you,” Ronan clarified quickly, and it sounded like it took something from him to say the words. He walked closer to Adam, and he fidgeted with his hands as he did so. “Look, it was a weird night. I don’t know what I was thinking, either. It was just… a stupid fucking mistake.”

“Really stupid,” Adam agreed.

“Won’t happen again.”

“Definitely not.”

“So, it’s fine, then. We’ll just… forget about it.”

“I can do that,” Adam said, though he wasn’t sure he could, really. “But… are you sure we’re okay?”

“Christ, Parrish—“

“I just need to know that we’re okay,” Adam pressed. “I…” He took a deep breath and admitted, voice low and more vulnerable than he intended, “I was scared that I completely fucked up our friendship.”

Ronan’s expression softened. “Don’t be an idiot. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

Adam exhaled loudly, the relief seeping out of him, and stared into Ronan’s light blue eyes, getting lost in them for a moment. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I do.”

They were silent for a few moments, but for the first time that night, the silence let Adam breathe.

Then Ronan smirked. “So. You thought I was a good kisser, huh?”

Adam let out a surprised laugh, though his ears felt embarrassingly warm. “Oh my god, Lynch.”

“You said it, not me.”

Adam looked down, trying to hide his smile. “I hate you.”

“Cheer up, man. You weren’t bad, either. Definitely better than Cheng.”

Adam snorted. “Well, don’t tell _him_ that. You’ll break his heart.”

“I think he’ll live.”

Adam scratched the back of his ear. “Speaking of—um. We probably… shouldn’t tell anyone. About what happened. They’ll never let us live it down.”

Ronan nodded. “Fuck, I know. Especially Cheng.”

Adam shuddered. “God. Can you imagine him finding out I took his stupid meaningless sex advice? I’ll have to move.”

A complicated look that Adam couldn't read passed over Ronan's face, but he just said, “To another city.”

“To another _country_.”

Ronan laughed, and Adam soaked up the warmth in the sound. It had only been a few days since he’d last heard it, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Did it work, then?”

“What?” Adam asked.

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “The meaningless sex. Did it help?”

Adam’s entire body flushed with heat. “Oh, I—um,” Adam stuttered, “Maybe. I mean, I don’t know.”

“So you’re doing alright?”

“God,” Adam huffed. “Not you, too.”

“Just making sure,” Ronan said, trying to sound annoyed but coming out earnest.

“Yes, Ronan, I’m doing alright. She changed her Facebook status to single yesterday, so, you know, it’s official and all,” Adam said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, well, if she changed her Facebook status, then obviously.”

Adam smiled at him, and Ronan smiled back.

“I’m really glad things are okay between us,” Adam said softly.

“Yeah,” Ronan said, equally soft, “Me too.”

Then Adam stifled a yawn, his exhaustion suddenly hitting him again. “Shit. It’s late. I should get going. I have to be up early for work.”

“Yeah. You look beat, man. Get some rest.”

“I don’t look _that_ bad,” Adam muttered.

“Your eye bags are the size of the fucking moon.”

“Because _you_ get so much sleep on the daily,” Adam retorted, irritated.

Ronan just shrugged.

“I’ll see you later, Lynch.” Then he stopped right before turning the doorknob. “Do you think it’s safe to go out? They’re not doing it on the couch, are they?”

Ronan grinned. “Only one way to find out.”

It ended up being safe, which Adam was extremely thankful for. Before he left, he stopped by the kitchen and ate a Twix bar, reveling in the taste and the knowledge that he and Ronan were going to be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In another universe where Adam and Ronan aren't soulmates, Ronan and Henry are most definitely in love. Also, I'm not sure where the Twix thing came from but they're my favorite chocolate and now I really want some. Let me know what you liked or didn't like about the chapter! Next up: Adam's birthday, and I promise the friends with benefits plot will be starting soon. The plan for this fic is getting out of hand rip.


	3. If You're Into It, I'm Into It

Everything was fixed, so Adam should’ve been happy. He should’ve stopped thinking about that night and put the whole ordeal behind him. He should’ve forgotten about it, like he and Ronan mutually agreed to.

But his mind reminded him of it at the most inconvenient times. Which was to say, all the time.

Like when he and Ronan were at Nino’s with the rest of their friends and Ronan casually put his arm around the back of his seat, fingers brushing Adam’s shoulders, and Adam remembered the way they’d woken up that morning, Ronan’s arms wrapped around his waist. Or when Ronan said _fuck_ in any normal context and all Adam could think about was how Ronan said _fuck_ when Adam first touched him. Or when Ronan whispered something into Adam’s ear and he was transported back to Ronan’s lips on his neck.   

Maybe their friendship really _couldn’t_ come back from that night. They seemed okay enough when they were hanging out all together as a group, but it didn’t escape Adam’s notice that they hadn’t been alone together in the week since their conversation.

Adam also couldn’t stop thinking about said conversation.

_It was just… a stupid fucking mistake._

The words kept replaying in Adam’s head. Ronan was right, of course. It _was_ a mistake. A stupid, idiotic, moronic mistake. But something in Adam felt off kilter anyway.

Did Ronan… not like it? It had to have been good for him, didn’t it? It certainly _seemed_ like he liked it at the time.

It had been amazing for Adam, he knew that much.

He shook himself out of it, shifting his focus back on the car above him.

Adam took shifts at the auto repair shop close to his apartment whenever he could. The money at the internship wasn’t bad – certainly better than he’d had at any other job thus far – but it wasn’t enough. He’d worked as a mechanic as a teenager, so this was second nature to him at this point. 

At eighteen, Adam had spent a lot of time underneath a car, working on an engine and trying not to think about Blue Sargent. He suddenly felt like not a lot had changed.

He dismissed the thought. Everything had changed.

And yet, here he was, in the same place in another city, trying not to think about Ronan Lynch and his lunch with his ex-girlfriend that afternoon.

An hour later, he cleaned up and changed out of his coveralls. He’d only just started the walk to his apartment when his feet changed course without his brain catching up, and before he knew it he was outside the door to Ronan and Gansey’s apartment.

He didn’t know what he was doing here. He was already aware that Gansey wasn’t going to be home for another hour, so it would be smarter just to go back to his place.

Adam wasn’t feeling particularly smart that day.

Ronan opened the door after several knocks, adorned in his usual black tank and dark jeans. But something was different.

“You’ve been painting?” Adam said in lieu of a greeting, surprise clear in his voice, eyeing the fresh paint splatters on his clothes.

For no reason that Adam could guess at, Ronan flushed. “Maybe.”

Adam looked around the apartment as he walked in, gaze drifting to Ronan’s room.

Ronan was suddenly in his line of vision, blocking his way and glaring at him. “No,” he snapped.

Adam crossed his arms. “Why not?”

“You know why not, Parrish.”

“So I see your stupid rules haven’t changed over the years,” Adam said.

“No, they haven’t.”

Ronan was an incredible artist, but his desire to paint came and went, and as far as Adam knew, he hadn’t painted anything in over a year. One thing was always consistent, though – Ronan never let anyone see his work until he was done. Sometimes even after he was done. Adam had set eyes on very few of his finished paintings, and apparently he was one of the privileged, because the rest of their friends had seen even less.

“You haven’t painted in ages, have you?” Adam asked, sitting down on the couch.

Ronan shrugged. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“So, what, inspiration didn’t strike you in the past year or two?”

“Guess not,” Ronan said, sitting down next to Adam.

“The paint is going to get on the couch, you know,” Adam pointed out.

Ronan jeered. “There are probably way worse stains on this couch, man.”

Adam wrinkled his nose.

“You don’t have to entertain me if I interrupted you,” Adam told him. “I mean, you can get back to your painting session. I don’t really know why I came here. I’ll just watch TV or something.” 

Ronan waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s fine. I needed a break anyways.”

Adam couldn’t help himself. “What were you painting?”

“Yeah, nice try.”

Adam pouted. “Come on. Tell me.”

“Not happening.” Then Ronan smirked. “Actually, I’ll tell you on one condition.”

“I’m listening.”

Ronan’s eyes were filled with glee. “You paint something.”

Adam grimaced. “You’re an asshole.”

Ronan laughed. “Come on. You’re not _that_ bad.”

“I thought you didn’t lie, Lynch.”                                                     

“And I thought you didn’t give up so easily, but you proved me wrong that time.”

“If I hadn’t dropped that class, I would’ve failed,” Adam said, scoffing.

“Please. You’ve never failed a class in your life.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

Junior year of college, Ronan had convinced Adam to sign up for Painting I. The first two weeks of that class had proved to Adam that he should never pick up a paintbrush ever again. Ronan had tried to school his expression when Adam showed him the two paintings he’d done, but it was written all over his face that he was trying very hard not to burst into laughter. He’d picked another class for the semester the very same day.

“Yeah, well, even you can’t be amazing at everything, Parrish.”

Adam’s face felt hot at the compliment. Ronan’s eyes were rapt on his, boring into him.

Adam cleared his throat, feeling a desperate need to change the subject. “Um. I talked to Brittany today.”

That was probably the wrong thing to bring up. Ronan’s face did something complicated, and his voice was careful when he asked, “You guys back together?”

Adam laughed without humor. “No. God, no. We just—I had to get some of my things from her apartment, and she asked if I wanted to go to lunch. We talked for a bit. That’s all.”

“Oh. Well, good.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Good?”

Ronan fidgeted with his hands. “Yeah, I mean—she was—fucking boring.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “You’ve mentioned that.” He bit his lip. “I guess it _was_ good. Closure, you know.”

“Sure,” Ronan said.

“I just…” Adam trailed off, unsure if he wanted to voice what had been bothering him. It was probably best that he didn’t.

But then Ronan asked, “What?” His voice was impossibly soft, luring Adam’s thoughts from inside him.

“Do you think I should feel guilty?” Adam asked, hesitant and uncertain.

Ronan furrowed his eyebrows. “Guilty? For what?”

Adam scratched the back of his neck, clearing his throat. He looked down at his lap when he said the words. “You know… about… about us. I mean… it was the same night.”

Ronan seemed taken aback. “So what? You guys were broken up. She fucking dumped you.”

“Thanks, I remember.”

“I’m just saying. It’s not like you cheated on her. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Adam sighed. “I know. You’re probably right.”

He really didn’t know why he was stressing about it. He just felt strange. He was also filled with the knowledge that if it had been the other way around, he would’ve felt more than a little hurt, regardless of the fact that he’d realized he stopped feeling that way about Brittany weeks ago.

“God,” Adam huffed, saying the word with feeling. “I hate this. Relationships are stupid.”

“Good thing you’re not in one anymore, then.”

“I should probably stay that way for as long as possible,” Adam said, an edge of self deprecation to his tone. “I can’t deal with the damn headache of it all.” Adam shook his head. “Sorry. I’m rambling. You don’t care about any of this.”

Ronan shrugged. “Hey, man, ramble as much as you want. Not like I have anything better to do.”

“You have an entire painting to do.”

“It’s probably going in the trash.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it fucking sucks,” Ronan said, with a sizable amount of venom, though it was decidedly directed internally rather than at Adam.

“I highly doubt that,” Adam replied.

“Yeah, well, we’ve already established that you don’t know shit about art.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Adam pressed. He was inexplicably bothered by the notion of Ronan throwing any of his artwork away. Practically, Adam knew Ronan probably trashed a bunch of it, being as particular as he was, and that that’s just how the process of creating went, but all the pieces Adam had seen were so beautiful. Adam didn’t think Ronan could make anything that wasn’t beautiful.

Ronan looked at him and away. His voice was quiet when he said, “I can’t capture the subject properly.”  

“Well, I’ve always loved all your paintings,” Adam said, earnest.

A look of surprise passed Ronan’s face, and Adam didn’t know if he was imagining it, but his cheeks seemed a little red.

The other boy didn’t reply, just picked up the TV remote and asked, “What do you want to watch?”

Ronan ended up ignoring Adam’s input on that front and turned on some terrible movie that he found hilarious and Adam found stupid, but Adam didn’t mind because Ronan’s live commentary was entertaining no matter what they were watching.

He didn’t know how it happened, but eventually they drifted closer on the couch, and when an exhausted Adam slouched against the seat, his arms and thighs unintentionally pressed up against Ronan’s.

Neither boy moved from the position, and Adam leaned into the warmth of Ronan next to him.

Ronan’s voice was soft and close to his ear. “Did you just come from the garage?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You smell like an engine.”

Adam felt vaguely embarrassed and moved slightly away from the other boy. “Sorry. I probably should’ve showered.”

Ronan shifted so that they were touching again, though it probably wasn’t on purpose. “Didn’t say it was a problem.”

Adam still felt self conscious, but he hummed in response. His eyes felt strangely heavy, the world dim around him, the body beside him the only thing grounding him.

When he opened his eyes, his neck was aching.

Adam blinked, disoriented and confused.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” a voice said in his hearing ear.

Adam flinched, and it was then that awareness hit. His neck was uncomfortable because he’d fallen asleep on Ronan’s shoulder. His cheek was pressed against Ronan’s collarbone, his side flush against the other boy.

Adam sat straight up, feeling himself go red. There was a bit of drool at the side of his mouth, which he hastily wiped away. The movie was at the end credits. He rubbed his eyes and muttered, “Jesus. How long was I asleep?”

Ronan was looking at him with amusement and something softer, something that made Adam want to look away. “About an hour.”

“ _An hour?_ And you didn’t wake me? Where’s Gansey?”

Ronan seemed unconcerned. “He’s in his room. He agreed that I should let you sleep, by the way.”

Adam groaned. “You’re both of no help. You should have woken me up.”

“I’m not an alarm clock,” Ronan retorted.

“Whatever,” Adam grumbled. It was late and he still had shit left to do for his boss. “I’m going to go home and try to get some work done.”

He didn’t look at Ronan as he left, feeling strange and out of sorts.

 

*

 

The next night, Adam and Henry stopped by Cabeswater while Ronan was bartending. The place was quite rustic and homey for a bar, with soft lighting and the walls covered in fake but immensely real looking vines. It wasn’t particularly busy, which was fortunate for Ronan.

“What are you guys doing here?” Ronan asked he poured a glass of wine and handed it to a customer, ever surly.

“Can’t two friends drop by to visit their other friend because they enjoy spending time with said friend?” Henry asked.

Adam supplied, “Blue and Gansey are being all –“ he made a vague gesture with his hands, “—you know. Blue-and-Gansey.”  

“Traitor,” Henry muttered. “I just don’t understand why they do this so often at our place. It’s smaller, and there’s more people, and they knew Ronan was busy anyway!”

“And our apartment has thin walls,” Adam added. “Feels like we’re back in the dorms again.”

“At least your room isn’t next to Blue’s,” Henry said. “Why don’t they just move in together? It’s the easiest solution. Ronan and Blue can just switch.”

“Fuck no,” Ronan said, expression distasteful. “I’m not living with _you_ , Cheng.”

Adam had to agree, only because he felt instinctual dread at the prospect of being roommates with Ronan.

“Blue said they’re not _at that place_ yet, whatever the hell that means,” said Adam. “It’s not even that bad if they’d just… keep it to the bedroom and not, you know, the kitchen.”

“The kitchen is the most sacred of places,” Henry said mournfully. “I’m moving out. I’m moving in with Lynch, and then Adam can deal with the hetero duo.”

“Again, _fuck no_ ,” Ronan said with emphasis.

“You’re just mad you have to slum it with the poor folk,” Adam said to Henry, scoffing.

Gansey and Ronan’s apartment was considerably nicer, because they had the money to afford it. Henry also had that money for most of his life, until he was cut off from that supply a couple years back, therefore choosing to be roommates with Adam and Blue. Adam found it difficult to be sympathetic to Henry’s situation, though of course Gansey was full of empty reassurances.

“Not true,” Henry protested, sounding genuinely offended.

A glass of ginger ale appeared in front of Adam. He thanked Ronan, pleased that he knew what Adam wanted without Adam having to say it.

“Where’s my drink, Lynch?” Henry whined.

“You’ll have to order one,” Ronan said.

“Adam didn’t have to order one. You’re playing favorites. I’m suing for discrimination.”

“I really don’t think I’m Ronan’s favorite,” Adam said dryly.

Ronan snorted. “Oh, between you and Cheng? Definitely. But that’s not saying much.”

Henry got a sly look on his face. “Don’t listen to him, Adam. You’re his favorite in general.”

Ronan sighed. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

Adam smiled up at Ronan, raising an eyebrow, feeling slightly drunk even though all he had was a sip of ginger ale. “ _Am_ I your favorite?”

Ronan just started pouring shots.

Henry grinned. “He sleeps on your floor more often than in his own bedroom, Adam. What do you think?”   

Ronan scowled at both of them. “Are you two fucking done? I have customers to serve.”

Henry waved a hand around. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll leave in a bit. I’ll be right back.” He went in the direction of the bathroom, and immediately another person took his seat.

Adam startled a little at the new presence: a handsome man about their age, dressed in clothes that looked like they cost as much as Adam’s apartment. He looked sort of like Gansey, if Gansey had light blonde hair and was about a foot taller. His expression was decidedly un-Gansey-like, though, calculating and arrogant instead of earnest.

“Glad you’re still here. You know, I didn’t get your name earlier,” Not-Gansey said to Ronan.

Ronan stared at him, gaze hard and unflinching. He was a snake ready to bite. “That’s because I didn’t tell you my name, genius.”

Not-Gansey laughed. “Still playing hard to get, then. Thanks for the drinks. I’ll see you around.” He slipped a piece of paper in Ronan’s direction and walked away.

Ronan glared at the guy’s back. “Fucking moron,” he muttered.

Adam stared at the paper, a number clearly legible in black ink. “He gave you his number.”

Ronan grabbed the slip and crushed it in his hands, then tossed it in the garbage can behind him.

“Why’d you do that?” Adam asked, because he needed to hear the answer. His hands tapped at his glass incessantly. Irritation bubbled up inside him.  

Ronan huffed. “Why do you think?”

“That guy was flirting with you,” Adam said.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“So, what, you didn’t like him?”

Ronan gave Adam a bewildered look. “Did you not _see_ the dude? He had douchebag written all over him.”

Adam shrugged, as nonchalant as he could make it. “He was attractive.”

“Not my type. But if you liked him so much, he probably didn’t get too far. Go find him and have some meaningless sex since you’re so fucking sad and desperate.”

Adam looked Ronan in the eye as he said his next words, his heart beating faster than normal. “I don’t need to. You already satisfied me in that department.”

Adam saw Ronan’s eyes go wide, and then he dropped the bottle of beer he was holding, glass shattering and liquid spilling all over the floor.

“ _Shit_ ,” Ronan hissed, scrambling to clean up the mess.

Adam sipped the rest of his drink, staring at the table, feeling unreasonably smug. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Ronan had given him more than just ginger ale, because he felt strangely uninhibited, wanting, dizzy.

But Adam did know better.

It was probably just a side effect of the awful music blaring from the speakers. He could tell Ronan was in charge of picking the songs.

Henry came back a moment later. “What’d I miss, friends?”

“A guy hit on Ronan, and he broke the poor man’s heart,” Adam told him.

“So, the usual, then,” Henry said.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Please get out of my fucking bar.”

Henry pulled on Adam’s arm. “Gladly. Come on, Adam, we don’t need to stand for this harassment.”

“At least he said _please_ ,” Adam offered, but he got up anyways. He started to take out money to pay for his drink, but Ronan made an irritated sound.

“Don’t be stupid, Parrish.”

Adam was about to argue, but Henry was already dragging him in the other direction, so Adam conceded and called, “See you, Lynch.”

Adam felt Ronan’s burning gaze on his back all the way to the exit.

 

*

 

Adam was really starting to regret agreeing to be part of this movie night. Firstly, he had work to do, and secondly, more importantly, Gansey was picking the movie that evening and Gansey’s taste in movies was absolutely terrible. Even worse than Ronan’s.

He had only Ronan’s snarking comments to rely on to hopefully make the experience somewhat enjoyable.

They were all supposed to meet at Gansey’s place and Adam couldn’t convince Blue to let him get out of it, so Adam resigned himself to the situation.

He went straight from his shift at the garage, exhausted and probably covered in grease, but found that when he reached the apartment, Ronan was the only one there.

“You’re an hour early, Parrish,” Ronan said when Adam asked where everyone was.

Adam guessed he’d gotten the time wrong. Fuck. He could’ve gone home and showered. Maybe he could just shower here.

He was about to ask when he finally looked at Ronan properly. The boy was covered in paint again, and Adam had a flashback to the other day, being pressed against him, cheek tucked into his shoulder.

But his countenance was nothing like that time. His face was stormy, his posture guarded, and Adam could sense his foul mood from a mile away.

“What happened?” Adam asked, meaningfully.

Ronan scowled, turning away. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Please, Lynch,” Adam scoffed, giving him a withering look. “I think I know you well enough by now to realize when something’s wrong.”

“Well then you should know when to leave me the fuck alone,” Ronan snapped.

Adam _did_ know. He’d met the majority of Ronan’s demons over the years, watching as he battled them, and Adam knew when it was best to stay away. He also knew when Ronan needed someone to be there.

Adam sat down on the couch and waited.

Ronan stared at him for a long moment. Then his entire body seemed to give up, and he collapsed in on himself, shoulders hunched and hand rubbing over his face in exhaustion.

He walked over to Adam and sat beside him.

He didn’t say anything, so Adam started with something simple. “You were painting again?”

Ronan nodded dully.

“Same thing as last time?”

Ronan nodded again.

“You didn’t throw it away, then?”

Ronan shrugged. “You convinced me not to.”

Adam felt pleased by this bit of information, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

Ronan let out a deep breath. “I just—I was painting. And then—Declan called.”

“ _Oh_.” That might’ve explained the mood. But—

“I thought you guys were doing better now.”

“We were. Are. But Declan’s still—he was just—“ Ronan broke off, frustrated with words as he often was. “He gave me shit for not going back a few weeks ago. For Dad’s—you know.”

Adam knew how difficult it had been for Ronan to leave his home at nineteen, to come to New York with Gansey and start a life away from the farm and the family he’d always known. His dad had died when he was fifteen, and his mom had been sick ever since then. Ronan hadn’t wanted to leave her. Adam could tell Ronan still felt guilty for it, sometimes, for leaving his mother with a caretaker.

Ronan visited her whenever he could. He was always taking trips back to Virginia, and he’d asked Adam to come with him several times. All the others had been to Ronan’s elusive home, and always told Adam how beautiful it was, how kind Aurora Lynch was.

But unlike Ronan and the rest, Adam didn’t go back to where he grew up. He hadn’t been back ever since he’d left Henrietta for college.

He was afraid to go back.

He didn’t know if the fear would ever go away.

“But you visited recently, didn’t you?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking told him. I go there more often than he does even though he lives closer. But he said Matthew was upset I wasn’t there for—that day. That I should’ve been there. He’s probably right.”

By _that day_ Adam assumed he meant the day that Niall had died. Adam didn’t know the exact date, but he knew it was sometime in June, and that Ronan went back every year for it.

Except this year, apparently.

“That’s ridiculous,” Adam told him. “You’re allowed to have your own life, Ronan. You’re allowed to try to move on.”

“Am I?” Ronan muttered, hands clasped together on his knees, eyes cast down.

Without thinking about it, Adam put a hand on the back of Ronan’s neck, fingers brushing prickly hair. Ronan froze at his touch.

“Of course,” Adam said gently. “You’re not betraying anyone or leaving your family behind.”

Adam was the one who left people and places behind. He didn’t know what it was like to have a family that loved you, a family that you loved back, but Ronan’s devotion was written all over him: when he talked about Matthew’s antics with an endeared smile, when he described how nothing could compare to Aurora’s baking, when he let fondness even seep into his dramatic complaints about Declan.

Adam had met Matthew and Declan a few times when they came up to New York from D.C. to see Ronan. Each time, Adam could see that Ronan was both ecstatic and conflicted about seeing them.

“What made you stay here, this time?” Adam asked, tentative, not knowing if the question would upset Ronan. But he was curious. He knew it was always important to Ronan to go back when his family needed him.

His fingers had a mind of their own, and they rubbed soothing circles at the nape of Ronan’s neck. Ronan looked at him from the corner of his eye and swallowed audibly. 

“I was planning on it,” Ronan said. “But Sargent had her art show that day and she really wanted me to go. I tried to tell her that I couldn’t but she was really upset, so.” He shrugged, but it was a shrug from caring too much instead of too little.

Adam stared. “Did you tell her _why_ you couldn’t go?”

Ronan’s silence was answer enough.

It took Adam’s breath away, sometimes, how much Ronan cared about people, all the odd ways in which he showed that he cared.

He sighed. “You’re an idiot.” Both his hands grasped Ronan’s hands between them, and he heard Ronan’s breath hitch at the action. “But you’re also a really good friend.”

Ronan stared at their hands, and Adam was taken back to the night they slept together, Ronan kissing his knuckles and looking down at him in awe.

Ronan’s skin was warm, as it always was. Slowly, Ronan’s fingers traced the backs of Adam’s hands, fingers studying his grimy nails, passing over the grease on his knuckles, then up to the back of his wrist. One of his palms trailed up Adam’s forearm, producing goosebumps in its wake, stopping at his inner elbow. 

Adam felt embarrassed about the grease still stuck to parts of his skin, but Ronan’s hands weren’t completely clean either, with bits of wet paint of various colors, some of it smearing on Adam.

Their faces were somehow much closer than before, and Adam couldn’t remember how they got here.

Adam lifted his gaze from their hands, and their eyes met for a mere second, and then Ronan’s lips were on him.

Before Adam could even process what was happening, he was kissing Ronan back, his lips moving automatically. Ronan’s tongue shoved into his mouth, and Adam opened himself wider, kissed Ronan harder.  

His teeth grazed Ronan’s bottom lip, and the other boy made a strangled noise in response, making Adam’s head spin, his jeans feel tighter. He pressed himself closer, and their hands grabbed at waists, shoulders, spines, chests.

Moments later, one of Adam’s hands slid back and forth on Ronan’s thigh, and then pressed flat against his groin.

Ronan broke off and muttered, “ _Fuck_.”

Adam made a split-second decision, then got off the couch and placed himself on the floor between Ronan’s feet, knees digging into the rug. He grabbed Ronan by the hips and moved him forward, and Ronan went willingly.

Adam finally looked up at Ronan, meeting his eyes in silent question. Both of them were breathing hard. Ronan’s face and neck were flushed, and Adam guessed that his own were, as well. He didn’t know what he was doing. In the back of his mind, he knew this was a bad idea, but there was a more insistent voice, speaking from somewhere between his legs.

Ronan said, voice hoarse, “Everyone will be here soon.”

Adam bent his head a little and kissed Ronan’s knee through the large rip in his jeans, for no real reason other than that he wanted to. “I’ll be quick,” he murmured against the thread.

Ronan exhaled roughly and swore under his breath. “Okay.”

Adam undid his belt and pants in a rush. Ronan’s breathing got quicker during the process, even though Adam wasn’t touching him yet.

When Ronan’s pants and underwear were finally around his ankles, Adam didn’t waste any time staring or teasing, though part of him really wanted to.

Ronan gasped, “ _Jesus fuck_ ,” when Adam took him into his mouth. Adam could tell he was trying to control his reactions, containing them to labored breaths and fists clenched at his sides, so Adam did something with his tongue and took him deeper.

Ronan let out a helpless moan and a _God,_ _Adam_ and tangled his fingers into Adam’s hair. Adam’s own hunger heightened by the feel of Ronan lightly tugging at his strands, but he stayed focused. When he briefly glanced at Ronan, the other boy’s face was tilted up to the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut.

He kept his promise and brought Ronan to the edge quickly, and soon enough Ronan was pulling his hair in warning and muttering, “Adam, Adam, I’m almost—“

He came with a groan in Adam’s mouth. 

Adam wiped his lips with the back of his hand while Ronan regained his breath. He stood up, knees aching a little.

For a moment they just looked at each other. Then Ronan reached towards the button on Adam’s jeans, but Adam batted his hand away.

Ronan looked confused. “You don’t want—?”

Adam shook his head, staring down at his feet. He was so hard that it hurt, but he just said, “No, it’s fine.” The reality of what just happened came crashing down on him.

What just happened _again_. God. He was such a fucking idiot.

“Are you sure?” Ronan asked, sounding almost disappointed.

Adam nodded, still not looking at him.

Distantly, Adam registered Ronan putting his pants back on, movements blunt and aggressive. He tried to breathe, willing his erection to go away without much success.

“So,” Ronan said finally, looking up at Adam from his place on the couch. “What the hell was that?”

Ronan’s tone sparked something in Adam. “Don’t tell me that was your first time getting a blow job, Lynch,” Adam bit out.

Ronan scoffed. “Seriously, Parrish?”

“What?” Adam asked, aware that he was coming off petulant.

“You don’t—you don’t think we should talk about this?”

“I can’t believe _now_ you want to actually talk about something,” Adam muttered. “You’ve never wanted to do that before.”

“You’re an asshole,” Ronan snapped, glaring at him.

“ _Me?_ ” Adam asked, incredulous. “ _You’re_ the one who kissed me!”

“And you’re the one who dropped to your knees,” Ronan shot back.

“Right, like you said no when I offered. What happened to _it won’t happen again_?”

“I could ask you the same fucking question.”

“Jesus,” Adam spat. “I can’t believe this.”

“So I guess you’re not gonna apologize this time,” Ronan said, sneering.

“ _God_ , Ronan,” Adam said. “Enough, okay?”

They both glared defiantly at each other, and some small part of Adam felt vindicated at this, this familiar path they always ended up on.

Adam let out an exasperated sigh and looked down at himself. “Now I have paint all over me.” It wasn’t that bad, really, only a few spots in select places, but Adam knew it would be impossible to get off his clothes.

“Yeah, and I’m covered in fucking car grease,” Ronan muttered.

Adam flushed. “You know what, Lynch—“

Adam’s words were cut off as they both heard a key turn in the lock, and then the apartment door swung open.

“Oh, Adam, you’re here,” Gansey said, smiling tiredly at both of them. “Great. Henry and Blue should be here soon, and then I can _finally_ show you—“

“Actually, I’m leaving,” Adam said abruptly. He felt Ronan’s gaze snap to his face, piercing and intense, but Adam didn’t acknowledge it.

Gansey’s face fell. “What? But—“

Adam didn’t waste any time, rushing past Gansey to get to the door. “I’ll see you guys later.”

He slammed the door behind him as he left.

 

*

 

Adam’s birthday was two days later, and he spent almost the entirety of it working. He didn’t know if he would have gotten any leniency if he’d told his boss about the occasion, but it didn’t matter, because he didn’t want that anyway. Adam had never gotten in the habit of making a big deal out of it, and he wasn’t about to start now. So Adam said yes when they asked him to stay later than usual, and didn’t get home until almost ten at night.

He entered his apartment to three enthusiastic friends yelling “Happy birthday!” completely out of sync.

Adam was surprised even though he probably shouldn’t have been. They did something for him every year, even though he never mentioned the day if he could help it.

There were hugs and well wishes, kisses on cheeks and “Congratulations, Adam, you’re six years away from being thirty!”

There was no Ronan.

Adam had noticed that fact almost immediately, and he tried not to visibly deflate and show how his heart was doing a painful thing in his chest because of it.

It shouldn’t have shocked him, considering how they left things. They’d fought, badly, and hadn’t spoken to each other since. He’d thought of nothing but the fight for the past two days, and came up with no solutions. He didn’t know why it had happened again and didn’t know what he could possibly say to Ronan that would fix things.

So he knew, logically, why Ronan hadn’t made an appearance, and yet, all Adam could think was, _why wasn’t Ronan here?_ Ronan was _always_ there for his birthday, ever since they’d known each other. Adam knew he had no right to it, but he felt the hurt settling deep in his gut, dragging him down.

Had he really screwed things up that badly? He cursed himself, because of course he had. They’d finally gotten past that first hurdle, gotten past the awkward tension, and Adam had been so relieved when Ronan told him that things were okay.

And now he’d gone and fucked it up again.

It wasn’t all his fault, Adam reminded himself. _Ronan_ was the one who initiated things that time, wasn’t he?

He tried to smile and act happy as his friends gave him their gifts and as he cut his cake. It was red velvet, Adam’s favorite, and it tasted incredible.

They’d been sitting around for about an hour when Adam got up the courage to ask the question, picking the thread on his jeans and not looking at any of them. “So, where’s Ronan?”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“He said he had to bartend tonight,” Henry said, and his tone was apologetic. “Said he couldn’t get out of it.”

“Right,” Adam muttered. He could feel their curious gazes on him, but he didn’t want to hear it. He quickly changed the subject.

It was a while later when Blue whispered in his right ear, “You know, he didn’t want me to tell you this, but Ronan is the one who baked the cake.”

Surprise coated Adam’s face. He’d just assumed that they bought it from a store.

“I don’t know why you guys are fighting this time, but he’ll come around.”

“I really hope so,” Adam murmured.

He’d just gotten into bed, not long after Gansey left and the other two retired to their rooms, wearing his favorite white t-shirt and sweatpants, when there was a knock on the apartment door.

Adam didn’t bother getting up. Gansey probably forgot his phone or his jacket or something, and it was Adam’s birthday, after all. One of the others could get it.

He heard the door open, heard soft murmurs, and a few moments later someone knocked on his bedroom door.

“Parrish, can I come in?”

Adam’s heart started beating faster. He got out of bed and hurried to the door. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and opened the door.

Ronan was standing in the doorway with a small potted plant in his hands. Adam stared in disbelief as he handed it to Adam.

“Happy birthday.”

A few weeks ago, Adam had offhandedly mentioned to Ronan that he missed how he had filled his room in college with plants, that they were comforting and nice to look at and made the place feel like a home, and that he wanted to start doing that again with his current apartment.

Now, Ronan was looking at him nervously, fingers tapping against his thigh in an anxious rhythm.

Adam walked over to his bedside table and placed the plant on it, then walked back to Ronan.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” Adam admitted, a tiny bit of the earlier hurt filling his voice without his permission.

Ronan exhaled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I almost didn’t.”

“Thanks for the plant. I love it,” Adam said earnestly. Then, smiling, he added, “And the cake was really good.”

Ronan huffed and his cheeks filled with color. “Fucking Sargent.”

“Red velvet’s my favorite.”

“I know,” Ronan said simply.

Before Adam could process what he was doing, he stepped forward and hugged Ronan, arms coming around his neck. He felt Ronan startle against him, but then he slowly returned the hug, hands resting on Adam’s lower back.

“I’m really glad you decided to come,” Adam murmured.

“Yeah,” Ronan said, lips nearly brushing Adam’s hearing ear, “Me too.”

Adam closed his eyes. He felt the same relief that he’d felt that first time, that they were alright, that Ronan was _here_ , except ten times stronger. He liked this, Ronan pressed against him, his scent all around him. He turned his face into Ronan’s neck, nose brushing his throat, breathing deeply.

Ronan sucked in a breath, and he pulled Adam impossibly closer, hands tightening in Adam’s shirt.

Adam’s fingernails scraped the back of Ronan’s neck, and one of his hands snaked farther up the other boy’s head, reveling in the roughness against his palm.

He heard Ronan swallow, and then Ronan’s fingertips traveled to the strip of bare skin where Adam’s t-shirt had ridden up, then slipped under it, rubbing circles into the dip of his spine.

Adam gasped quietly. He turned his face up a bit and lightly kissed the hollow of Ronan’s throat. Ronan made a desperate noise.

Adam didn’t know why he was breathing so hard. They were just _hugging_. But none of the times Adam had hugged Ronan in the past had been like _this_.

Nearly trembling, he pulled back and looked Ronan in the face. The other boy’s pupils were blown wide with hunger, and Adam felt nearly swallowed up by his gaze.

“This is,” Adam gulped, “a bad idea.”

Ronan leaned his forehead against Adam’s and inhaled. “Yeah.”

He kissed the corner of Adam’s mouth.

Adam puffed out a breath. “We’re being stupid.”

An open mouthed kiss, tongues darting to meet each other.

“Definitely,” Ronan agreed.

“ _Really_ stupid,” Adam emphasized.

Ronan nosed at his cheek and whispered, “Yup.”

Then he flipped them around and pushed Adam up against the door, not hard enough to hurt, but just adequate to make Adam hiss in pleasure.

Ronan’s mouth was on him immediately, rough and insistent.

Between kisses, Adam gasped, “We shouldn’t— _fuck_ —do this.”

Ronan kissed down his neck, teeth scraping his collarbone. He vaguely hummed assent against Adam’s skin as he continued to drive Adam crazy with his wonderful mouth.

“We’re going to regret—oh, _god, Ronan_ ,” Adam moaned quietly, nails digging into Ronan’s shoulders as the other boy ground their hips together.

And then he was pulling away, and Adam only just stopped himself from making a humiliating noise at the loss of contact.

“Parrish,” Ronan panted, sounding uncertain and fearful for once. Or maybe he’d been uncertain and fearful the entire time. “Do you want me to stop?”

Did he want Ronan to stop?

Absolutely not.

Adam shook his head furiously. “No, no, _fuck_ —“

He didn’t have to ask twice, because Ronan was kissing him again, and Adam didn’t hold back, pulling him as close as possible.

And then it was Ronan who was dropping to his knees, Adam who was staring at him in shock and awe, Adam who was clutching Ronan’s head and biting his lip to keep from making any noise.

Ronan kissed his hipbone and then quickly got himself off as Adam recovered afterward, seeing stars and barely being able to hold himself up.

When Ronan was done, Adam stumbled to his bed without glancing at Ronan, collapsing onto his back.

He felt more than saw Ronan lie down beside him.

They were both silent for a long moment.

“That can’t happen again,” Adam said finally.

Ronan let out a loud snort. “Yeah, you can say that again next time.”

“I’m serious, Ronan,” Adam told him, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

“I asked you if you wanted to stop,” Ronan said, harsh and angry and hurt.

“I know. I know, okay?”

Ronan turned on his side to look at him. Adam reluctantly looked back.

“So, what, you’re telling me you don’t want to do this again?”

Adam bit his lip. “It’d be _stupid_ of us to do this again.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

Adam groaned his frustration. “Come on, Lynch. We’ve already screwed things up enough between us. You know this can’t possibly end well.”

Ronan stared at him, unflinching. “That _still_ didn’t answer my question.”

Adam didn’t say anything, just gritted his teeth.

“Adam, say you don’t fucking want to and I won’t say another thing about it ever again, alright?”

Adam relented. “Oh my god, _fine_. Yes, I _want_ to, but that doesn’t matter.”

Ronan gave him a look of disbelief. “How the fuck does it not _matter?_ ”

“How do you expect this to work? I mean, it’s not like we’re—this isn’t—“ Adam faltered, unable to get the words out. But Ronan seemed to understand him anyway.

“I know that, Parrish. I’m saying we keep doing this. _Just_ this.”

Adam considered his words. Just sex. A casual relationship. The idea was too appealing, especially with the memory of how _good_ it felt to be with Ronan. That’s all he wanted, all they both wanted. Adam wasn’t looking for a relationship, not after the messes he’d had in the past, and he didn’t have those feelings for Ronan, anyways, and he knew Ronan definitely didn’t have those feelings for him. But it still seemed implausible.

“Really?” Adam asked, eyes narrowed. “Since when does Ronan Lynch do casual hookups?”

“Since now.”

Adam looked at him dubiously.

Ronan just scoffed. “It’s been ages since I’ve been with anyone, Parrish. Clearly my way isn’t exactly working out for me.”

Adam still wasn’t convinced. Ronan made an annoyed noise and lifted himself on top of Adam.

“Ronan—“ Adam warned.

Ronan attached his lips to Adam’s neck and Adam’s eyes fluttered shut, and he forgot what he was going to say.

“Come on, Parrish,” Ronan murmured against his throat.

“That’s not fair,” Adam said, voice embarrassingly breathy.

Ronan kissed his way up to Adam’s ear, achingly gentle. “What’s not fair?”

Adam shuddered from the feeling of Ronan’s breath on his ear.

“This is going to get too complicated,” Adam insisted. “It’ll fuck up our friendship.”

“Well, like you said, we’ve already screwed things up.”

“ _Ronan_.”

Ronan took Adam’s earlobe between his teeth, making him gasp.

This was stupid. This was so, so stupid.

“God. _God_. You asshole. Fine.”

Ronan pulled back and grinned triumphantly. “Yeah?”

“You’re a menace.”

“Mmhm,” Ronan agreed as he dipped down again and kissed the side of Adam’s face.

“We can’t tell any of the others, you know.”

“Not arguing on that.”

Adam swallowed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. That they were doing this. That Adam and Ronan were doing this.

But if they were in fact doing this, Adam wasn’t going halfway. He felt awake, alive, desirous in a way that he hadn’t in a long time.

“Ronan,” Adam panted as Ronan made his way back to his mouth. “Get off of me for a second.”

Distracted and not seeming to fully hear him, Ronan murmured, “Why?”

“ _Because_ I need to grab the condoms and lube from the drawer beside the bed.”

Ronan froze and then stared at Adam, seemingly speechless. “Fuck—you want—“

Adam smirked. “Well?”

Ronan rolled off of him, muttering curses under his breath as Adam huffed out a laugh and reached for the drawer.

He found the bottle of lube, but apparently he was out of condoms. Of course. The universe hated him.

“Shit,” Adam said. “I ran out of condoms. Do you have any on you?”

Ronan shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Parrish, I’m sure,” Ronan said, scoffing. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to get any tonight.”

For a moment Adam considered going at it without one. He shook himself out of it. It was probably for the best, anyways. He had to be up early tomorrow. And Blue and Henry were probably sleeping. Their rooms were on the other side of the apartment, so it wasn’t difficult to do something without them hearing, but still.

“Maybe Blue or Henry have some,” Ronan suggested.

Adam raised an eyebrow. “You really want me to go and ask them?”

Ronan groaned. “We can go down to the store right now and buy some more.”

It was tempting, and he felt oddly thrilled to know that Ronan wanted this as badly as he did.

But Adam just said, wryly, “Or we can be normal and reasonable and leave it for some other time.”

“Yeah. Or that.”

Adam laughed. He felt incredibly light, even with the weight of what was surely about to be an awful mistake. It didn’t feel like a mistake, though.

They stared at each other. Adam was smiling, and after a moment, Ronan gave a smile back, something small and almost shy. It hit Adam all over again what they were risking. But his worries were drowned out by the sight of Ronan’s smile. For the time being at least.

Ronan reached for Adam, movements tentative as his thumb brushed Adam’s cheekbone, the gesture startingly tender, making Adam shiver. “I should get back,” Ronan said, voice soft and dreamy.

Adam almost suggested he stay, like he had many other nights, but he didn’t know if it was different now. _Just sex_ , Adam reminded himself.

When Adam didn’t say anything for too long, Ronan added, “I told Gansey I’d be back soon. We were about to start a pool tournament.”

Adam snorted. “Of course. Well, wouldn’t want to keep you from that very important task.”

They reluctantly stood up, and Adam walked Ronan to the door.

Ronan ran a hand over the back of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

He shot Adam a quick smile. He hesitated, leaning forward a little as if to kiss him, but ultimately just said, “Happy birthday, Adam,” and turned to go.

After Ronan left, Adam turned around and slid down the door, settling on the ground with a deep exhale.

He stayed that way for a long time, mind spinning, heart racing, missing Ronan’s touch already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO IT BEGINS ;) Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! It wasn't supposed to be this long, but alas. Please leave a comment about what you liked/didn't like if possible, feedback really means a lot. Next update will probably be slower.


	4. In The Way You Give And Take

Adam didn’t sleep much that night.

Really, after being in Ronan’s calming company and getting an insanely good blow job, he should’ve fallen into slumber immediately, but he couldn’t help his nature, and so instead of sleeping, Adam resorted to what he did best, which was overthinking everything.

Ronan’s electric presence and warm mouth had muddled Adam’s sensibilities, but now that he was alone, he couldn’t help but think practically. His mind was racing a hundred miles a minute, drawing up the pros and cons of what he and Ronan had agreed to.

Pro: Ronan was ridiculously attractive. Con: Having sex repeatedly would have monumental ramifications on their friendship. Pro: Getting off with Ronan was amazing and he was pretty sure he’d never gotten a blow job or hand job that fucking incredible in his life. Con: They would have to sneak around and that would not be easy whatsoever. Pro: Adam’s past relationships all ended badly or quickly and this way he wouldn’t have to deal with the complications of one. Con: Whatever they were doing couldn’t realistically last long and then what? Con: This was Ronan’s first time doing something casual, and Adam didn’t know how he’d handle it. Con: It was Ronan, and things with Ronan were always difficult. Pro: It was Ronan, and Adam trusted him.

He could still back out. Everything inside him was screaming that that was the smart idea. But the truth was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He didn’t have the will power for it. Recently he just felt helpless, out of control, whenever Ronan was near, his body automatically gravitating towards the other boy, craving his touch everywhere.

Adam wanted Ronan, and that was enough to overpower every negative and rational thought he had about their situation.

His brain finally stopped spinning at about four am and sleep took him.

The next day, working at the garage went by unbearably slow, and it was made all the more difficult by the fact that Ronan was all he could think about. He couldn’t focus, and he checked his phone more often than he ever had in a single day. It wasn’t like Ronan even texted him often, besides brief messages clarifying plans or sending pictures and videos that he found funny. So he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

That was a lie. He knew exactly what he was waiting for – a text from Ronan that said _come to my apartment tonight_ or _don’t forget the condoms when you stop by later_.

God. His skin felt like it was buzzing, desperate in a way he hadn’t felt in ages.

He didn’t know whether they were even going to do anything tonight. Neither of them had specified when they were hooking up again, only that it’d happen some other time. Ronan had said _I’ll see you tomorrow_ but they were supposed to meet up with everyone that night anyways.

It’d probably seem pathetic and desperate if Adam approached Ronan about it only one day after they’d fooled around, wouldn’t it?

Adam groaned, annoyed at himself. The entire point of being in a casual relationship was so he didn’t have to worry about shit like that. It’s not like he hadn’t had casual hookups before, and normally he wouldn’t exactly feel shy about approaching the other person, but something about it being Ronan made the task more complicated and the rules more blurry.

He left the garage early evening, and it was too unbearably hot that day for him to meet anyone without showering first, so it was almost time for dinner by the time he started the walk towards Nino’s.   

He didn’t go straight to Nino’s, however. Cabeswater was on the way, and if he remembered correctly, Ronan would still be working at this time.

Adam stared at the sign hanging over the entrance as he went in, saying _Cabeswater Bar and Lounge,_ lit up in emerald letters. Well, most of them were lit up. The _a_ in _bar_ and _o_ in _lounge_ seemed to be out.

Ronan was chatting with some middle aged woman with a martini glass in her hand and a thoroughly trashed look on her face. _Chatting_ was probably a strong word. Ronan was nodding along as the woman babbled on enthusiastically about something, making lots of hand gestures in the process.

When Ronan’s gaze drifted and he spotted Adam near the front with an amused expression on his face, his eyes widened a little. He mouthed _save me_ and Adam laughed and shook his head. Ronan gave him an annoyed look and mouthed _Asshole_. Adam just shrugged, still smiling. He observed for a few more minutes before deciding to put Ronan out of his misery. It was pointless either way because just as he started walking over, a man, who Adam presumed was her husband, gently whisked her from the bar and towards the door.

“Thanks for the help,” Ronan snapped as Adam sat down on one of the bar stools.

“You’re welcome,” Adam replied cheerfully. “You two just seemed to be having such a wonderful time, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, yeah, it was great,” Ronan deadpanned. “She blabbed for half an hour about her daughter and then mentioned that she was about my age and I should date her.”

“Must’ve been a tempting offer.”

“This is the fourth time this week one of my ancient ass customers has tried to set me up with their daughter or granddaughter or niece or whatever the fuck. What is it about me that appeals to these people?”

“Your charm and friendly personality, of course.”

“At this rate I’ll probably have to start wearing a fucking rainbow t-shirt or something,” Ronan said with considerable disdain as he poured a glass of ginger ale for Adam.

“You could always write _bartender is gay_ in giant bubble letters on the menu board,” Adam offered helpfully.

“That’d make it marginally better, but then they’d just start trying to make me date their sons and grandsons.”

“Probably,” Adam agreed, taking a sip of ginger ale.

Ronan finally stopped fidgeting and cleaning up around the counter and looked at Adam, who was already looking back.

Adam got the ridiculous urge to lean across the counter and kiss him, touch his arms, run his hands down his chest. He immediately tried to stifle it, but his skin itched regardless.  

They silently stared for a few moments, and then Ronan said, “So, did you stop by to stare at drunk middle aged ladies?”

Adam wondered if he was imagining the meaningful lilt to his voice. He clutched his glass with both hands, tapping his fingers along the side. “Yeah, that, and, you know, I wanted free ginger ale.”

Ronan snorted. “Happy to provide.”

“You’re almost done, right? We have to meet the others in a bit.”

“Yeah, Sophie’s taking over soon.” Ronan looked Adam up and down, eyes narrowed. “You worked at the garage today, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have fucking grease all over your hands and face like last time.”

Adam flushed at the memory. “Well, obviously I showered before I came here. And fuck you, I didn’t have it on my _face_.”

“Dude, you had a giant line of it right here,” Ronan said, pointing to his own cheekbone.

“Sure I did.”

“I’m serious, Parrish.”

Adam scoffed. “And you didn’t think to tell me at the time?”

“Nope,” Ronan said, smirking. Then his voice got lower, and he averted his eyes. “I managed to get rid of it eventually, though.”

Adam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “You--?” Then it dawned on him, and he remembered Ronan kissing wetly across his cheek that day as they started making out. His eyes widened and his ears felt hot. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t even begin to know how to respond to that, so he balled up the paper napkin under his glass and threw it at Ronan’s face instead.

Ronan just grinned sharply and threw it back at him.

He hung out at the bar for about ten more minutes as Ronan worked, and then a blonde girl with streaks of purple in her hair arrived to take over.

They started the walk towards Nino’s, hands in pockets and silently sneaking looks at each other.

About halfway there, Adam asked, all casual, bumping shoulders with Ronan as he did, “So, did Gansey say we’re all doing something after dinner?”

Adam hoped that they weren’t. He had nothing against spending time with his friends, but all he wanted right now was to do what they didn’t get to last night. If they didn’t all have further plans together, chances were that Ronan didn’t either, since they were more or less his only friends. He wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.

Of course, actually approaching Ronan about doing something was a different beast altogether, but Adam would confront that when he got to it.

Ronan shrugged. “I don’t know. We probably are, it’s Saturday night. And Henry said something about getting drunk at our place.” He looked Adam in the eye, gaze challenging. “Why? Had other plans for the evening?”

The way he said it made it clear that he knew exactly what other plans Adam had in mind.

Adam said, looking back with equal defiance, “No, nothing I can think of.”

It was like a game of gay chicken, and Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to play, but he wasn’t one to back down.

Still, all he really wanted to do right now was to drag Ronan to an alley in the middle of one of these streets, shove him hard against the side of a building, and kiss him senseless. He had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out.

It would happen eventually, Adam reasoned. Ronan had seemed equally eager last night, if not more. He was the one who convinced Adam to do this whole casual relationship thing anyway.

Ronan didn’t visibly react to Adam’s response, and by this time they’d reached the restaurant.

“There’s the birthday boy,” Henry yelled as they arrived.

“Henry, for the last time,” Adam said as he and Ronan slid into the booth, taking their usual place next to each other, “No one but you celebrates their birthday for an entire week.”

Henry pouted. “But my way’s more fun.”

“Maybe to you,” Adam muttered. “Some of us don’t have the best birthday memories.”

The table got uncomfortably quiet, and Adam regretted the comment, which had slipped out unthinkingly. Ronan pressed their shoulders together, ever so slightly, and Adam recognized it as Ronan’s unique brand of comfort. In the moment, Adam hated it and craved it in equal measure.

 “Well,” Henry said, quick to recover, “All the more reason to make new, better memories.”

“I already did,” Adam said, sighing. “Last night.”

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Blue spoke up. “I know you always want something small—“

“Yeah, of course,” Adam replied earnestly. “Thanks, guys. Really. It was great.”

“Would’ve been better if some people had deigned to show up like they were supposed to,” Henry huffed, looking pointedly at Ronan, who bared his teeth in response.

Adam shrugged, and he couldn’t help his lips quirking a little. “He managed to make it up to me.”

Henry crossed his arms. “And how’d he do that?”

Adam thought of Ronan’s tongue in his mouth, Ronan dropping to his knees. He turned his gaze sideways, meeting Ronan’s curious eyes for a moment before looking back at Henry. 

 “Oh, you know,” Adam said, smiling wider, “He gave me a potted plant for my room.”

“Potted plant?” Henry scoffed. “Lame ass gift.”

“Well, he gave me something else, too,” Adam said casually, and he felt Ronan still at his side. “And it was really good,” Adam added.

“What?” Blue asked.

He looked at Ronan again, who was staring at Adam with slight bewilderment, a flush rising on his cheeks.

Adam smirked and knocked their knees together under the table. “He baked the cake, remember?”

Ronan exhaled and muttered, “You fucking asshole.”

“That was _you?_ ” Henry exclaimed. “Blue said she got it from the store.”

“Yeah, because I told her to keep her mouth shut, but apparently she couldn’t fucking do that,” Ronan snapped, glaring at Blue.

Blue gave him the finger and a smug smile.

“That’s so sweet, Lynch,” Henry cooed. “But might I say, you never baked a cake for _my_ birthday. I’m pretty insulted.”

“I’ll bake you one next year,” Ronan replied.

“Really?” Henry asked, brightening.

“Fuck no.”

“Don’t worry, Henry,” Blue said soothingly, patting Henry’s shoulder, “I’ll get you a cake from a really fancy bakery. It’ll taste better than anything Ronan can make.”

Automatically, Adam said, “I don’t know about that.”

Everyone at the table looked at him.

Adam scratched his ear self-consciously. “I just meant—I mean—Ronan’s cake was amazing.”

Ronan smiled at him, small and unshielded. “Thanks, Parrish.”

“Well, way to rub it in,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, you ate like half of the cake last night,” Adam reminded him.

“ _Half?_ ” Ronan snarled, incredulous. “Did you actually leave any for Parrish?”

Henry waved his hand, as if he was bored of the conversation. “Relax. Adam got enough. And there’s still some left over for tonight.”

Adam’s mouth nearly started watering at the thought of eating more of the cake tonight.

“All this talk about cake is making me hungry,” Adam sighed. “Did you guys order yet?”

“Yes, don’t worry, we already ordered for both of you,” Gansey said. “The usual.”

Adam used to get annoyed at Gansey ordering for everyone without actually asking what they wanted that day, but he’d learned to let it go, especially since he pretty much got the same thing every time anyways.

It was a fairly normal evening: their food arrived, Henry made a face at Gansey’s pizza with avocado and Adam’s pizza with pineapple, Blue and Ronan bickered about something insignificant, Adam complained about how useless the other interns he had to work alongside were, Ronan laughed at some scathing comment he made and Gansey made a _tsk_ -ing sound.

But alongside that, was something new: the way Adam nearly vibrated with anticipation and want, the way his hands nearly wandered to Ronan’s thighs or knees or shoulders several times over the night, the way he couldn’t stop stealing glances at Ronan’s lips, wanting to crush his own against them with a startling intensity.

It scared him a bit, how much touching Ronan and knowing he was allowed to do it again had so quickly activated an _on_ switch inside him that he didn’t know how to turn off. But it was just lust, just desire, he reminded himself, and that was something Adam was very used to, in some form or another. It was no big deal.

He _really_ needed to talk to Ronan about when they would next hook up. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since it last happened, and he was already going crazy.

As they got up from the booth to leave, Adam casually laid his palm on Ronan’s knee, squeezing it for a moment before standing up and not acknowledging Ronan’s eyes on him.

He thought maybe he could ask him on the way to the apartment, but as soon as the group went outside, Blue jumped on Ronan’s back and demanded he give her a piggyback ride.

“We look fucking ridiculous, maggot,” Ronan grumbled, but he didn’t shove her off until they reached their destination.

Back at the apartment, Blue, Henry, and Gansey got spectacularly drunk as they played an extremely unskilled game of pool with Ronan. Adam chose to opt out, claiming that there was no fun in beating someone if they were as uncoordinated as the three of them were at the moment, and there was one too many players for even teams as it was. He sat on the floor with his back against the couch, nursing a can of ginger ale that Ronan had passed to him.

Adam watched Ronan and Blue beat Henry and Gansey, which was to be expected since Gansey was the worst at pool and Ronan was the only sober one of the bunch. Blue’s vocabulary got increasingly filthier as she got more and more drunk, and by the end of game Adam felt sincerely bad for Gansey as he bore the brunt of her competitive insults.

Afterward, Blue, Henry, and Gansey collapsed on the floor and started a drunk game of UNO where standard rules apparently did not apply.

Ronan vehemently refused when they asked him to join, and instead sat down next to Adam, mirroring his position with his knees pulled to his chest. They were incredibly close, their sides nearly pressed together, their knees knocking easily when Adam shifted a little.

“You getting bored, Parrish?”

“Nah, it’s pretty thrilling to watch Blue yell at Gansey, actually,” Adam replied wryly.

Ronan grinned, teeth glinting. He had extremely white teeth, which was something Adam had never noticed before. Maybe because he never spent this much time staring at Ronan’s lips.

“Her swearing game has gotten strong,” Ronan said proudly, nearly beaming.

“And creative,” Adam added. “She probably learned it from you.”

“I know, it’s fucking great.”

They watched quietly for a bit as Blue shrilly yelled, “UNO, UNO!” and Henry said, “Wendybird, you still have _two cards_ ,” and Blue replied, “Where--? Oh. Oops.” And then she took another sip of vodka.

Adam turned to Ronan and asked him, an eyebrow raised, “So, you’re not drinking?”

Ronan often drank with the other three, though he could hold his alcohol a lot better than them, and he didn’t go overboard with it nowadays. When Adam had first met Ronan, the boy was drinking himself to unconsciousness every other night. He wasn’t in the greatest place back then, but he’d made an effort to get better over the years, and now he drank much, much less. Gansey had shown some concern about Ronan taking the bartending job, worrying that it’d make it easier for Ronan to go back to his old habits, and they had a pretty vicious fight about it. When Gansey asked Adam’s opinion, Adam just shrugged and said, _Yeah, it might be dangerous, but Ronan can take care of himself. He’s been doing really good so far. Just trust him._

Trusting him had been the right choice. Ronan didn’t seem to be having any problems as far as Adam could tell.

Ronan simply replied, “Don’t feel like it.”

Adam was secretly glad. He didn’t want to have sex with a drunk Ronan. If they ever even got to that.

From several feet away, Blue yelled, “Bullshit! That’s fucking bullshit! We’re playing two out of three!”

“Stop being a sore loser, Sargent,” Ronan called out.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Blue screamed back, flipping him off.

Adam laughed, and Ronan shot him an unimpressed look.

“Christ,” Ronan muttered. “She is so _loud_ for such a tiny person.”

“They’re all plenty loud right now,” Adam reasoned, just as Henry let out an _I love you, Whoop Whoop Gansey Boy_. “It’s painful.”

“Hey, I tried to put on some music to drown their crap out, but that wasn’t a very popular suggestion.”

Adam snorted. “I wonder why.” Ronan gave him another annoyed look. “Please, Lynch. Your music is worse than their screeching. And my ear could not take both of those things at the same time.”

Ronan waved his hand. “You all just have shit taste.”

They bickered for a while longer about music, Adam defensively protesting _there’s nothing boring about Pink Floyd_ and Ronan scoffing and promising to force Adam to listen to the newest terrible EDM artist he’d discovered.

Then Blue asked Ronan if they had any more vodka left.

“God, slow down, Blue,” Adam said.

“No one asked you, Adam!” Blue shot back.

Ronan shook his head in disbelief and got Blue some more to drink from the kitchen.

“How the fuck does she drink so much without passing out?” Ronan asked as he sat down next to Adam again. “She’s not even five feet tall.”

“Her tolerance has definitely improved over the years,” Adam said. “God, I remember the first time she got drunk. It was a fucking mess.”

“You were there when that happened?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, lips turning up in a small smile at the memory. “It was the spring of senior year of high school. We were at Blue’s house and since I was sober, she put me in charge of making sure that her mom and none of the other Fox Way women found out she was drunk. That didn’t go so well.”

His heart clenched a little, suddenly missing the comfort of 300 Fox Way, of Calla’s bluntness and Maura’s warmth and Persephone’s pie. It was the closest thing to home he’d ever known. Some of them drove up to New York occasionally, so it’s not like he hadn’t seen them at all since he left for college, but it didn’t happen often, and he still hadn’t gotten the courage to go back to Henrietta so his options were limited.

“What happened?” Ronan asked, sounding delighted at the prospect of a young Blue and Adam getting in trouble for their dumb teenage antics.

“Well, Orla told on Blue to get back at her for something, and Calla and Maura chewed us out. And then they told Blue that if she ever drank that ‘fruity garbage’ ever again, they’d disown her, and that they had plenty of _respectable_ alcohols at home if she really wanted to get drunk properly.”

Ronan barked out a laugh. “Sounds like them.”

Adam startled a little at the fondness and familiarity with which Ronan said the words, then chastised himself, because of course. Of course Ronan knew the women of Fox Way well by now, because the entire gang had visited Blue’s odd home when they went back to Virginia together. It was only Adam that was left out of those trips. Vague discomfort settled in Adam’s lungs, and he tried to change the subject.

“Yeah, well, a first time drunk Blue was no picnic to deal with, either,” Adam said. “She practically threw herself at me.”

“She _what_?”

Adam vividly remembered being eighteen and shocked and flustered when his best and only friend at the time tried to kiss him in her bedroom, on her tiny bed, with leaves and trees printed on her threadbare bedspread. He had reeled back and insisted she stop drinking and go to sleep. She’d had a few choice words to say about that.

“Nothing happened that night, obviously. I thought she was just drunk. But then she kissed me for the first time a week later, completely sober.”

He felt a little strange, not having talked much about his and Blue’s past relationship with Ronan. They were long broken up by the time they became friends.

“Well,” Ronan said finally, after moments of weighted silence, “ _You_ definitely didn’t have to be drunk to throw yourself at me.”

Adam elbowed him in the gut. “Asshole,” he huffed. “That is so not what happened.”

Ronan just smirked, looking far too pleased with himself.

Adam cleared his throat. He was tired of waiting. He wanted Ronan, even if he lost whatever game he’d unintentionally signed up for.

“Actually, about that…” He cleared his throat again, and started picking at the threads in Ronan’s ripped jeans on his knee, thumb touching skin. Ronan’s eyes were rapt on his face, darkening a little at Adam’s touch. “I, uh, bought more condoms this morning,” Adam said, casually, averting his eyes downward as he did.

“Did you?” Ronan asked, voice significantly lower than before.

Trailing his fingers down Ronan’s leg to his ankle, then back up to his knee, touch feather-light, Adam said, “Yeah. We could…” He looked up briefly at the trio of drunk buffoons who were playing some card game now that didn’t actually exist, “We could go back to my place. If you want.”

Ronan exhaled, and at last Adam got the courage to look the other boy in the eye again. Ronan looked back impassively, but Adam thought he saw hunger in his gaze. Ronan’s eyes dropped to Adam’s lips, and Adam swallowed. If he leaned forward, he could kiss Ronan right now, but he was all too aware that they had company.

Ronan _seemed_ like he wanted the same thing, but still, the lack of an actual response was unsettling.

“Unless,” Adam swallowed again, suddenly nervous, “You changed your mind? Because I’d get it if—“

There were fingers at his wrist, Ronan’s hand placed on top of Adam’s at his knee. “I didn’t change my mind,” Ronan said quietly but firmly. Hesitantly, he asked, “Did _you_ change your mind?”

Adam scoffed a little. “Lynch, I _just_ asked you if you wanted to come back to mine. Of course I didn’t change my mind.”

Ronan glared at him. “I was just making sure. You didn’t seem too certain last night.”

“Well, I’m certain now,” Adam replied sharply, taking back his hand.

“Fantastic,” Ronan bit out sarcastically.

Adam made an irritated noise, looking back at Blue, Gansey, Henry, who had given up their game in favor of lying on the floor and having what looked to be a very intense conversation about historical figures.

It was ridiculous how quickly they’d gone from talking normally to fighting, but that was the usual with Ronan. And Adam _still_ didn’t know whether Ronan wanted to have sex tonight or not.

“So,” Ronan said, bumping their knees together lightly, and when Adam looked over at him, he was smirking a little, “What was it that made you so sure? Decided you couldn’t live without my _amazing kissing_?”

Adam shoved Ronan in the shoulder. “Shut up,” Adam groaned, making Ronan laugh. “Are we getting out of here or not?”

Ronan glanced at the others and nodded. “Yeah. I’m tired of staring at those idiots over there.”

Adam let out a laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

When they got up, Gansey looked over at them sharply. “Where are you two going?”

“Uh,” Adam started, exchanging a look with Ronan. “Away from y’all?”

Ronan snorted.

“Wow, rude,” Blue sniffed. “But that’s great, actually, because we were thinking of going out too.”

“Out where?” Adam asked incredulously. “It’s late and you’re all wasted.”

“Late? The night is young!” Henry proclaimed. “We’ll go to the bar. Or a club. Maybe there’s karaoke night somewhere!”

“You’ll get arrested for public intoxication,” Adam replied dryly.

Blue waved him off. “Please. We’ve been drunker in public before. And we’ll have you two to guide us.”  

“Goody,” Ronan muttered.

Adam sighed. “We’re not coming with you, Blue.”

“But you just said you were going out,” Gansey said, frowning.

Adam looked at Ronan, who looked helplessly back.

“Well, that’s—that’s because—“ Adam faltered, trying to come up with a good excuse.

“We were going back to Parrish’s place,” Ronan interrupted Adam’s fumbling. “Because you three were being fucking annoying and we wanted some quiet. But since you’re getting the fuck out, we’re just staying here.”

Adam was grateful for how smoothly Ronan said the not-complete-lie, and also a little impressed.

“You two are so boring,” Henry complained.

After a few more minutes of the trio trying to convince Adam and Ronan to join them, they finally left, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet of the apartment.

“Finally,” Ronan groaned. “I thought they’d never fucking leave.”

“I know,” Adam agreed. “But they’re gone now.” He almost added _and we’re alone_ , but that was too much of a cringeworthy line and Ronan would probably make fun of him for it.

“Yeah,” Ronan said, quiet, his eyes like lasers piercing through Adam’s own.

“Let’s…” Adam nodded his head in the direction of Ronan’s room, hands shoved in his pockets.

“I have to piss first,” Ronan said.

Adam stared at him, stifling the urge to laugh at Ronan ruining the moment, as always. “Okay.”

Ronan made his way to the bathroom while Adam waited in his room, eyes wandering absently over the walls. He wondered where Ronan kept the painting he’d been working on. He certainly couldn’t see it anywhere out in the open.

He shamefully considered the idea of looking for it when Ronan wasn’t here, but he dismissed that immediately. It wouldn’t be right. He knew Ronan’s art was extremely personal to him. It would be like reading his diary. Besides, Ronan would probably show him in time.

He paced back and forth as he waited for Ronan, and the door nearly hit him in the face when Ronan finally entered, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” Ronan said, soft.

“Hey,” Adam echoed.

Even though they’d fooled around three separate times, this night felt different, maybe because they were planning to go farther, maybe because they’d talked about and cleared up what was actually going on between them. It felt like the start of something.

They stared at each other for a long moment, at a standstill, each waiting for the other to move.

Finally, Ronan stepped forward and kissed Adam.

Adam expected a hard, searing kiss, something hungry and desperate, the way he’d been feeling all day, but instead Ronan cupped his cheeks with both hands, thumb brushing over cheekbones, and gave him a bare press of the lips, lingering but soft and gentle in a way Adam had never let himself imagine.

Ronan pulled back a little and looked into Adam’s eyes, the gaze unwinding something inside Adam, making him dizzy. His thumbs rested on Adam’s bottom lip, and one of them swiped back and forth across, the tender movement sending shivers down Adam’s spine. He nearly wanted to take Ronan’s thumb into his mouth, but he shook that thought out of his brain.

“You sure you don’t want to back out?” Ronan murmured.

“I’m sure,” Adam told him, voice hushed. “Just—“ He swallowed, somehow already breathing faster. “Do that again.”

Ronan nodded, leaning his forehead against Adam’s and kissing him again. It was close mouthed for a few more seconds before Adam deepened it, their tongues colliding, small noises escaping them. Ronan’s hands traveled from Adam’s cheeks down his neck and chest to his lower back, leaving Adam shuddering in their wake. They finally reached the back pockets of his jeans, and Ronan pulled Adam closer so that their hips were pressed against each other. Adam gasped at the contact and wrapped his arms around Ronan’s shoulders, fisting his hands at the back of his t-shirt.

“Oh _god_ ,” Adam exhaled as Ronan shoved his thigh between Adam’s legs and bit along Adam’s jaw and neck.

He pulled Ronan’s face up and muttered, “Okay, okay, let’s—“ He started to tug Ronan’s t-shirt off, and when the other boy realized Adam’s intention, he complied and lifted his arms up. He didn’t stop to appreciate Ronan’s bare chest quite yet, instead opting to undo Ronan’s belt and zipper while Ronan’s breaths got harsher. Ronan hurriedly took his jeans off and kicked them to the other side of the room, but before Adam could take off his boxers, Ronan started lifting Adam’s shirt.

When Adam was shirtless in front of him, Ronan stepped back to look at him, eyes wide and filled with reverence. Adam didn’t really understand. Though Adam certainly didn’t walk around in his underwear at home the way Ronan often did, it wasn’t like Ronan hadn’t seen him shirtless before, so the way his gaze moved over every inch of Adam’s chest with awe didn’t make sense to him.

Adam got tired of the looking and kissed Ronan again, and the other boy moved them both backwards towards the bed. Soon Ronan was on top of him, pausing the kissing to stare at Adam again and trail his fingers slowly over his chest, touching every inch of it with concentration, then following his fingers with his mouth. Adam gasped and squirmed as Ronan licked across his hipbone. Adam was just about to tell him to keep going when he finally started to remove Adam’s jeans and underwear, and then Adam was naked underneath him, flushed and hard and aching.

Ronan was gaping again, so Adam scoffed self-consciously and muttered, “Stop staring and take off your pants, Lynch. We don’t have all night.”

Ronan glared at him, but didn’t argue, and Adam helped remove his remaining clothing. They were both naked at last, and Adam thought they’d finally get down to it, but then Ronan started kissing and sucking along his inner thighs, making Adam hiss and tremble and clutch desperately at Ronan’s shoulders. There’d probably be a bruise there later, but at least it wasn’t anywhere that someone could see. Ronan took Adam in his mouth, and god, it felt good, _really_ good, but if Ronan kept at it, at this rate this would be over before they actually got anywhere. Adam’s hands were caressing Ronan’s head, the shells of his ears, digging into his nape.

“Ronan, Ronan,” Adam panted, “Come on.”

Ronan pulled off and Adam dragged him upward to kiss him again.

“We should—“ Adam swallowed, trying to get his bearings, feeling dizzy. “Where’s your lube? I have the condoms in my jeans pocket if you need them.”

Ronan shook his head and took out the necessary supplies from the table beside his bed.

“So, um,” Adam cleared his throat and lifted himself up on his elbows, staring up at Ronan straddling him. “How do you want to do this?”

Almost as soon as Adam got the words out, in a shockingly skilled motion, Ronan flipped them over so that Adam was on top and then handed him the lube.

Ronan’s lips were hot on the shell of Adam’s hearing ear as he said in a low, rough voice thick with desire, “Fuck me.”

Adam closed his eyes, for a moment in disbelief that this was even real, and muttered against Ronan’s jaw, “Okay. Okay, I believe I can do that.”

But when Adam pulled back and finally stared down at Ronan in all his naked glory, he started to understand a bit of Ronan’s earlier dilemma. When he’d thought about doing this with Ronan, he assumed they would get right to it, because that’s what their earlier encounters had been like: quick, rough, desperate. But now that Adam had the opportunity, all he wanted to do was slowly explore Ronan the way Ronan had done to him.

And there was so _much_ to explore: Ronan’s nipples, and the way he shuddered when Adam took them between his teeth; Ronan’s thighs, strong and shaking when Adam put his mouth to them; Ronan’s knees, which were sensitive and kissing behind them apparently made Ronan gasp out his name.

While Adam did this, Ronan hands were everywhere: fisting in the sheets, traveling over Adam’s back, cupping his ass, his thighs, his hair.

Adam considered asking Ronan to turn around so he could properly look at his tattoo, but he decided to save that for another time. Besides, there were other parts of Ronan that more desperately needed attending to.

“Parrish,” Ronan groaned, pulling on Adam’s hair a little too hard as Adam kissed a line down Ronan’s glorious abs, “I thought we didn’t have all night.”

“Alright, alright, calm down, I’m gettin’ to it,” Adam said, Henrietta coating his words.

He quickly slicked his fingers up with lube. It was difficult, at first, and with one finger inside him, Adam frowned and said, “Ronan, you need to relax.”

Ronan scoffed. “I am relaxed.”

“No, you’re really not.”

Ronan made an annoyed sound and gritted out, “It’s just… It’s been a while, okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam snorted. “I can tell.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Ronan shot back, glaring.

“I just meant—I kind of figured you must be desperate to get laid if you’re willing to sleep with _me_.”

“I hope I’m not the first one to tell you this, but you’re really not _that_ ugly, Parrish.”

Adam huffed. “Shut up. I _meant_ because you had to let go of your stupid principles about meaningless sex and casual relationships and whatnot.”

A complicated look passed Ronan’s face, but he just said, “They’re not stupid.”

Adam sighed. It figured that even in bed, Ronan Lynch was ridiculously difficult.

“Now get back to it, smartass,” Ronan told him.

Adam muttered _asshole_ under his breath, but he got back to it.

When Adam hit a bundle of nerves and Ronan jumped like someone had electrocuted him, Adam said wryly, “So it’s _really_ been a while,” and laughed when Ronan lightly smacked his head and ruffled his already messy hair in retaliation.

Soon, Adam was opening the condom wrapper and applying it, Ronan hissing, “Hurry up,” and Adam replying, “Be patient or get yourself off, Lynch.” Finally, Adam eased himself inside Ronan, their foreheads pressed together and both of them breathing hard. Ronan’s fingers were gentle on his face, tracing the bridge of Adam’s nose, the corner of his mouth, the shell of his ear, combing through his sweaty strands. They were looking into each other’s eyes, and it felt more intimate than it should, in a way that terrified Adam.

“Move,” Ronan rasped, and Adam did.

Adam lost himself in the rhythm, and then it was just a series of sensations: Ronan’s shaking thighs, wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back; Ronan’s extreme responsiveness, telling Adam to go faster, begging for more, saying his name and mixing it with creative curses; Adam’s quiet gasps as he pressed his face into Ronan’s neck and cries of _god, yes, Ronan_. At one point, Adam took Ronan’s hands and pinned them back to the pillow, next to his head, lacing their fingers together as he thrust into him, making Ronan’s eyes widen, making him moan louder.

Adam started stroking Ronan towards the end, and it didn’t take long for Ronan to come after that. Adam came a bit later, immediately collapsing onto Ronan, their sweaty bodies sticking together. It had been especially humid lately, and he really should’ve asked Ronan to turn the air conditioning up before they did this.

His face was buried in Ronan’s collarbone, and they were both breathing heavily from the exertion.

“Fuck,” Adam muttered emphatically, and Ronan hummed his assent weakly, as if he couldn’t dredge up the energy to say more. He was trailing his fingers gently up and down Adam’s back, and the motion was soothing. Adam could nearly fall asleep like this.

But he didn’t want to. With a heroic amount of effort, he pulled himself out and cleaned up, while Ronan looked up at him with hooded eyes, seemingly in a daze. Then Adam lay down on his back next to Ronan, their arms pressed together, and pulled the sheet over them so he didn’t feel so exposed.

They stared at the ceiling, until Adam broke the silence. “So, that was… that was fun.”

Ronan made an amused sound at the words. Adam turned on his side to look at him and raised his eyebrows in indignation. “What?” Adam demanded. “Was it _not_ fun?”

Ronan gave Adam a lazy, contented smile, his gaze roaming Adam’s face. “Sure, it was fun.”

Adam couldn’t help but smirk back. “Okay, so…” He reached out and touched at Ronan’s chest, grabbing dark hairs between his fingers. “We’re definitely doing that again, right?”

Ronan nodded. “Oh yeah. For sure.”

Adam laughed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “Okay. Good.”

Ronan slowly took Adam’s hand from his chest and brought it to his lips, looking at Adam from underneath his long lashes as he kissed his fingers, taking Adam immediately back to that first night. Adam’s breath was caught in his throat, and when Ronan murmured, voice still a little hoarse, “Come here,” he had no choice but to comply and move closer.

When Ronan kissed him, it was like their first kiss earlier in the night, chaste and sweet and making Adam feel like he was in a dream. Adam kissed him softly back, fingers stroking along Ronan’s jawline, feeling the prickly stubble there.

Adam let out a sigh as Ronan got halfway on top of him and left lazy kisses down his neck. He liked this, especially since they hadn’t exactly had the chance to linger this way the past few times, either sleep or urgency providing an obstacle. But he also felt something strange and uncomfortable in his chest, exacerbated by the softness in Ronan’s kisses.

“I should go,” Adam said reluctantly.

“What’s the rush?” Ronan murmured as he kissed a freckle on Adam’s shoulder.

“They’ll be back soon.”

Ronan scoffed. “It hasn’t been that long.”

He was probably right, but Adam just repeated, “I should go.”

Ronan pulled back and stared at Adam, his lips pressed tightly in frustration, clearly holding back words.

“Fine, Parrish.” He rolled off of Adam, putting his hands behind his head. The position highlighted his biceps an unfair amount.

Adam didn’t allow himself to ogle, instead getting up and walking over to where his clothes were thrown on the floor. He almost took the sheet with him, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his nudity, which was ridiculous considering what they just did.

He felt eyes on him as he shuffled across, and when he turned back around, he found Ronan staring at him shamelessly.

Embarrassingly, he blushed, and got the urge to cover himself up, but he kept his hands at his sides.  “You’re staring again,” Adam said, intending to say it nonchalantly and instead coming out accusing.

Ronan raised a mocking brow. “So? Am I not allowed to?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Why wouldn’t I stare?” Ronan said, eyes raking up and down Adam’s body. “You’re hot.”

Adam flushed deeper. “Are you _flirting_ with me?” Adam asked in disbelief.

“You literally just fucked me, and that’s the part you find hard to believe?” Ronan retorted.

It was a fair question, even though Adam’s brain nearly short circuited at Ronan saying _you just fucked me_. Adam supposed he just wasn’t used to Ronan expressing his attraction and interest openly like this. But if they were going to do _this_ , he probably _should_ get used to it.

Adam really didn’t know how to answer, so he just scoffed and grabbed his clothes, hastily putting them back on. In the midst of that, he grabbed Ronan’s clothes as well and threw them at the other boy’s face.

“Put some clothes on, Lynch,” Adam told him.

Ronan tossed the clothes back on the floor and said, “Nah.”

Adam rolled his eyes, and then walked back over to Ronan, fully dressed. Ronan was still lying on his back, staring up at Adam with a lazy expression.

“You’re a Neanderthal,” Adam said.

“A Neanderthal you had sex with,” Ronan shot back.

Adam sighed. “And unfortunately will have sex with again.”

Ronan laughed and pulled Adam closer by the hem of his shirt. His fingers slipped under and delicately traced over the soft skin of Adam’s stomach, the fair hairs below his navel.

Adam swallowed thickly. “I gotta go.”

“I know.” He moved closer and lifted Adam’s shirt slightly to kiss right above his waistband. Adam inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip, the faint touch of Ronan’s mouth there instantly arousing him.

“Ronan,” Adam protested weakly, his voice embarrassingly breathy.

“They won’t be back for hours, Parrish,” Ronan murmured, now mouthing over the bulge in his jeans.

“Again? Right now? I _just_ fucked you, Lynch. Don’t get greedy,” Adam said, trying to go for stern and failing miserably.

Ronan barked out a laugh. “Too late for that.”

“I already put all my clothes on,” Adam tried as a last ditch effort.

Ronan was unimpressed. “Then fucking take them off again.”

“But— _mmph!“_

Ronan pulled him down for a kiss and Adam nearly toppled over, their mouths smashing together in a way that wasn’t entirely pleasant, but Adam wasn’t complaining.

He’d run out of arguments, and really, Ronan’s warm lips on his were all too convincing, so he fell easily on top of Ronan, and it wasn’t long before his clothes were discarded yet again.

Adam was in the middle of fucking him for a second time when a voice called out, “Ronan?”

They froze.

“Is that Gansey?” Adam hissed. “Please tell me we locked the door.”

Ronan opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, there was a knock on the bedroom door. “Ronan?”

“Don’t come in!” Ronan yelled immediately, hands tightening in Adam’s hair out of panic.

Adam could practically _hear_ the frown in Gansey’s voice. “Why?”

“I—I’m—“ Adam watched as Ronan faltered, trying to come up with an excuse. “Because I’m naked!”

“You— _what?_ ”

Adam couldn’t help himself—he buried his face in Ronan’s chest and tried to stifle his laughter, his entire body shaking with it.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Ronan muttered, and it only made Adam laugh harder.

“Why are you—you know what, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Just letting you know I dropped Blue and Henry back at their apartment.”

“Why’d you guys come back early?” Ronan asked.

“We couldn’t find any karaoke within walking distance. I’m guessing Adam went home?”

Adam lifted his head and stared at Ronan.

“Yeah,” Ronan called out. “Just a few minutes ago, actually.”

Adam tried not to think about how his shoes were still by the doorway, but hopefully Gansey was too drunk and too unobservant to notice. Gansey told Ronan he’d be going to bed, saying something about what a terrible hangover he’d have the next day.

When it seemed like Gansey had retired to his bedroom for the night, Ronan heaved out an exhausted breath.

“Fuck. That was close.”

Adam glared at him. “Oh, but _they won’t be back for hours,_ right?”

“Whatever,” Ronan huffed. “Now come on—“

“Oh, fuck no.” Adam pulled away and Ronan made an annoyed sound at the loss. “I’m leaving. Right now.”

Ronan didn’t look pleased. “You know, you could—“ He paused, clenching his jaw, seeming to struggle with something. “It’s late. You could just stay here tonight. We’ll make something up to tell Gansey.”

Adam shook his head and looked away. “I can’t.”

Ronan sighed, looking almost disappointed. “Fine, loser. At least let me—“ He reached to get Adam off, but Adam batted his hand away. Ronan stared at him. “Seriously?”

Adam crossed his arms, expression unamused. The walls weren’t nearly as thin in this place, so if they wanted to continue, they probably could, but Adam really wasn’t in the mood anymore.

Ronan rubbed a hand over his face. “I guess it’s just as well. Gansey kind of completely killed my hard on.”

Adam let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Once fully dressed again, he stared at Ronan, still naked, from near the door. He hesitated, feeling like he was missing something.

“See you later, Parrish,” Ronan said. “Gansey’s probably out cold by now, so you don’t have to worry about being quiet as you leave or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, still hesitating.

Ronan looked at him curiously, clearly confused by his lingering.

Making a split second decision, Adam walked back over to Ronan and bent down to kiss him. Ronan made a surprised noise, but responded instantly, hand coming up to cup Adam’s cheek.

Ronan had just opened his mouth to wrap his tongue around him when Adam pulled back, not wanting to get carried away. Ronan’s lips were red and kiss bruised and Adam was tempted to just keep kissing him.

“Bye, Lynch,” Adam said.

Ronan looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he just nodded.

Adam left.

His own bed was cold, and he found himself replaying the night over and over, craving Ronan’s warmth once again.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a firm headcanon that Adam likes the most disgusting food combinations, and of course, that includes pineapple on pizza. Sorry. I had to do it. This chapter was supposed to be like half the length, but I keep getting carried away. If anyone is wondering, the tentative plan for this fic is around twelve chapters, but that number may increase as I write, who knows. I should probably take the Monica/Chandler thing out of the description because at this point there's like no resemblance, but I promise there will be some recognizable scenarios in later chapters (if you want an actual Friends AU though, read [this amazing fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13835964/chapters/31819440)!). 
> 
> Also, I have no idea what differentiates an M and an E rating, maybe I should change it but I feel like my smut is never detailed enough for an E rating, and this chapter is probably as detailed as it'll get. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed, and if possible please leave a comment telling me what you liked about the chapter and/or if you have any constructive criticism! The comments last chapter were super nice and motivating, thank you guys <3


	5. Still I Can't Get Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mess and refused to come out right but I'm tired of working on it so uh... hopefully it's not terrible. There's a lot of sex. Enjoy.

Late Sunday afternoon, Adam sat on his bed with his laptop and the last tiny piece of leftover red velvet cake from his birthday. The day wasn’t even half over and he was already exhausted and frustrated, having gotten up early to get work done and knowing he’d have to continue late into the night. He had emails to send out, plans to draw up, research to do. It didn’t help that the people he was supposed to collaborate with were completely unhelpful.

He wished Blue was at home, because she was majoring in Environmental Studies and as an environmental engineering intern, he often bounced ideas off of her.

There was a knock on the apartment door, and Adam yelled at Henry to get it while furiously typing. Moments later, he heard a _Lynch, my man!_ and Adam stopped typing.

Ronan barged into his room and flopped down on his bed without hesitation.

“There’s this thing called knocking, you know,” Adam said, ignoring the fact that his heart was suddenly beating faster for some reason.

“Never heard of it,” Ronan quipped.

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked, lacing his voice with irritation, but he couldn’t help the anticipation in his veins.

“I’m going with Cheng to some gallery he insisted on showing me,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes, though Adam could see through the posturing and realized that Ronan was actually looking forward to it, “But he’s still fucking getting ready.”

“Oh,” Adam said, trying not to sound disappointed, and went back to looking at his laptop. It was absurd, really. Of course Ronan wasn’t here to see him. They’d been together only last night.

Ronan narrowed his eyes, and then his mouth curved into a suggestive smirk. “Why? Did you think I was here for something else?”

Adam glared at him. “Fuck off. No.”

Ronan shrugged, putting his hands behind his head, slouching further down. “If you say so. But just so you know, Henry’s still working on his hair. We’ve got ten minutes, _at least_.”

Adam’s fingers stilled on his keypad. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, Lynch.”

Ronan scoffed. “You can take a break for ten minutes.”

“No, I really can’t.”

Ronan’s expression turned concerned, his voice softer. “Cheng said you’ve been holed up in here working since seven am. And you slept late last night.”

“Yeah, I remember. And I’m going to sleep late tonight, too,” Adam replied tersely. “If you came here to lecture me, you can get out.”

Ronan’s face shuttered. “Fine, man. Do what you want.”

He started to get up, but before he could move far, Adam grabbed his hand. Ronan looked at him in question.

Adam let go of Ronan’s hand and sighed. He could afford a short break. And now that Ronan was here, close to him, Adam found himself being pulled towards him.

He struggled to get the next words out. “Are you sure Henry’s busy?”

Ronan grinned, all smugness. “He’s doing his _hair_ , Parrish.”

That was a yes.

“Lock the door,” Adam told him, firm and low.

Ronan jumped up immediately and did as he asked. He sat down next to Adam again, who was back to staring at his laptop.

“Parrish,” Ronan said, exasperated.

“One minute,” Adam muttered, eyes glued to the screen.

“We barely have time as it is,” Ronan hissed.

“I just have to finish this—“ Adam broke off in a sharp inhale as lips were pressed to his neck, and his head tilted back and eyes fluttered shut as an automatic response to Ronan’s mouth.

“Adam,” Ronan said, a gentle coax, as he kissed behind Adam’s ear.

Adam let out a breath. “I guess I can—“ He made a choked off noise when Ronan took his earlobe between his teeth. “I can finish—finish that later, _shit_.”

Adam opened his eyes and quickly put his laptop on the bedside table, right next to the bowl of cake, in which there were barely a bite or two left.

He turned around and looked at Ronan. “If I go into work tomorrow and get yelled at by my boss, it’s going to be your fault.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Please. I bet your boss fucking sings your praises all day. _‘Oh, that’s Adam Parrish, our star intern, he’s a brilliant know-it-all and a motherfucking genius and we’re going to promote him and give him a million dollar raise.’_ ” This was said in a terrible British accent and a mocking high pitched voice, making Adam laugh and flush at the same time at the absurdly delivered sort-of-compliment.

“First of all, my boss is from Texas, and he’s never said anything even close to that.”

“Well then he’s an idiot,” Ronan declared, and leaned in to kiss him.

Adam kissed him back hungrily, hands fisting in Ronan’s t-shirt, and then traveling downwards to his jean zipper. But Ronan stilled his fingers, covering them with his own.

Adam pulled back and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Ronan’s cheeks were flushed from kissing, and his gaze was intense on Adam. “I want to blow you first.”

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. But—“

“You’re the one who needs to relax, Parrish,” Ronan murmured, and his hand landed on Adam’s thigh, traveling inward, his touch burning even through clothes.

Adam exhaled and pressed his forehead against Ronan’s. “Alright then.”

Ronan flashed him a grin and then leaned over his lap, arms braced on either side of Adam’s thighs. Adam thought he should probably lie down, but before he could, Ronan undid his pants and lowered his underwear before taking him in his mouth. 

Adam did what Ronan told him to do: he relaxed. His head banged lightly against the headboard and he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to hold his reaction in, aware that Henry wasn’t that far away.

Adam scratched at Ronan’s scalp while he blew him, and gasped out his name when he was close, but Ronan was stubborn as always and swallowed, making Adam shudder as he did.

Head still spinning, Adam murmured. “You were right. That was relaxing.”

Ronan wiped his mouth and smirked, arrogant and sharp.

Adam reached to get Ronan off, but then a voice sang, “Ronan! My hair is ready, let’s go!”

Ronan groaned and stood up. “Fucking Cheng.”

Adam stared at Ronan straining in his jeans. “I could still take care of that,” he offered.

There was a loud knock on the door and the doorknob twisted back and forth. “Lynch? You in there? Stop bothering Parrish, we have to leave.”

Ronan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Fuck off Henry, I’m coming.”

Adam raised an amused eyebrow, biting his tongue on the obvious joke. Ronan’s immaturity was rubbing off on him.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Don’t say it.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Adam said. He waited for a few more moments, then added, “Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

“I fucking need a minute,” Ronan hissed.

Adam’s eyes drifted back down to Ronan’s still very obvious erection and he laughed. “Right.”

Ronan let out an annoyed breath. “Parrish, you ogling me is not helping.”

Adam raised his hands in mock surrender, then took his laptop from the sidetable and got back to work.

Ronan’s gaze drifted to the bowl of red velvet cake on the table. “Still making your way through that?”

“It was the last piece.”

“I can make you another one if you want,” Ronan said, voice soft.

Adam smiled at him. “Well, I don’t need a whole cake. If you could make some cupcakes, though...”

Ronan smiled back. “You got it.”

Someone banged on the door again. “Lynch! What the hell are you even doing in there? Come on man!”

“I really regret making friends with that guy,” Ronan said.

“I heard that!” Henry yelled through the door.

“That was the point!” Ronan yelled back. He gave one last look to Adam. “Wish me luck. I’ll be stuck with him for several hours.”

“Good luck,” Adam responded cheerily.

He didn’t kiss Adam before he left, and the place felt lonelier without him, too. But it was a good thing, Adam told himself, because he had a lot of work to do.

 

*

 

After work the next day, Adam stopped by Gansey and Ronan’s apartment, in theory because he needed to talk to Gansey about a fight he had with Blue and Blue not very subtly suggested to him that he should play mediator and try to get Gansey to apologize, but in actuality because he knew someone else would most likely be there.

It turned out that Ronan was the only one there, sprawled horizontally on the couch with a book when Adam entered, easily opening the unlocked door.

Ronan looked up when Adam entered and nodded at him, then went back to reading his book. Adam stared at him, baffled. He walked over to the couch and sat on the other end of it, right next to Ronan’s feet.

Ronan was reading The Aeneid. Not only that, but he had a pen in one hand, and he was writing something in the margins.

It’s not like Adam didn’t already know that Ronan was intelligent and enjoyed reading Latin classics, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise, but the image before him was a shock to his system regardless.

“You know, in high school, my English teachers always said everyone had to write in the margins whenever they assigned us readings,” Adam said into the silence. “Never thought that rule would actually stick with you of all people.”

Ronan scoffed. “I never did it with the assigned readings. Aglionby teachers can go fuck themselves.”

Adam ignored the last part, not letting himself get upset at the fact that he would have loved to learn from Aglionby’s teachers instead of the Mountainview ones. He supposed it didn’t matter much, since he got to where he needed in the end.

“So…?” Adam indicated his head to what Ronan was currently doing.

Ronan shrugged. “I just do it with some of my favorites.  Surprised you haven’t seen it before.”

 “What are your favorites?” Adam prodded, incredibly curious about this studious, intellectual Ronan.

Ronan indicated The Aeneid slightly. Then he said, “ _Volat nullos strepitus facientibus_.”

“Fuck,” Adam said, impressed. “Is that Ovid?”

Adam’s Latin skills were rough compared to Ronan’s, but he remembered as much as he could from classes in college.

Ronan nodded. “And of course, I like Catullus,” he added, smirking.

Adam rolled his eyes, but his fingers were twitching from the urge to touch. Ronan went back to scanning the book, which, from the looks of it, was old and worn. Ronan’s brow was knitted in concentration, and Adam wanted to kiss it.

Slowly giving into temptation, he leaned back against the couch and touched at Ronan’s ankle lightly with his fingertips. He heard Ronan exhale, and Adam continued his ascent up Ronan’s leg, over Ronan’s jeans, up to his knee.

“Parrish, I’m trying to read,” Ronan said, though he didn’t sound all that annoyed.

“Sorry, am I distracting you from your studies?” Adam teased.

“Yeah,” Ronan replied dryly. “I have a ten page paper to write on Virgil due tomorrow.”

“You know, maybe you should reconsider the whole college thing. Become a Latin professor, or something.”

Adam tried to imagine it, and while the image was incredibly pleasing, it was too sharp a contrast with the Ronan in front of him: torn jeans, black t-shirt, all hooligan and cutting edges.  

Ronan lowered his book into his lap and his mouth slithered into a vicious smile. “Why? So I can be added to the long list of teachers you’re hot for?”

Adam took back his hand and turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ronan let out an obnoxious laugh. “Please, man. You think we didn’t notice your crushes on your professors all these years? Henry and I had a bet going on it.”

“You _what_?” Adam exclaimed, horrified.

“You made me fifty bucks one semester, by the way, so thanks.”

Adam almost asked him what the bet was, but he was embarrassed enough already, and he didn’t actually want to know. He covered his face with his palms.

“I hate you so much.”

“You know I’m right,” Ronan said, sounding intolerably smug. “But just so you know, I’m not into that roleplaying shit. We’re not doing the whole teacher-student thing in bed.”

Adam glared at him. “I’m not into that either, you asshole.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted me to be your _professor_.”

“Fuck off. That is _not_ what I said.”

“Hey, whatever makes you feel better,” Ronan snarked, seemingly going back to reading his book.

Adam puffed out a frustrated breath, thinking that was the end of it, but then, Ronan muttered, “ _Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit.”_

Adam closed his eyes. “Ronan.”

He could _hear_ Ronan’s smirk. “Sorry, did you want me to call on you so you could recite it instead?”

Adam’s control broke. He climbed over Ronan on all fours, took the book out of his hands and placed it on the table next to the couch, and then kissed Ronan, all teeth and hunger.

“Shut up,” Adam growled, while Ronan laughed into his mouth.

“I was – _fuck_ – reading that, Parrish,” Ronan gasped as Adam sucked a bruise onto his collarbone.

Adam ignored him and tried to press impossibly closer, but it resulted in them falling over the edge of the couch and onto the floor, Ronan on top of Adam.

They stared at each other.

“I came here to meet Gansey,” Adam said, even though he’d forgotten about that as soon as he’d walked in and saw Ronan.

“He told me he’d be at work until late.”

Adam swallowed, desire pulsing relentless and needy through him. “Are you sure?”

Ronan started to undo Adam’s belt and pants. “I’m sure.”

Adam couldn’t quite believe they’d ended up like this, with Ronan riding him on the floor of his apartment, both of them mostly still clothed due to desperation and a sense of urgency. Ronan was looking at him the entire time, and Adam couldn’t look away. Adam’s hands clutched Ronan’s hips, then slid up his chest, over his racing heart. Midway through, Ronan took one of Adam’s hands and brought it to his lips, kissing the pads of his fingers, his inner wrist, so incredibly gentle. Then he took two of his fingers into his mouth and Adam had to close his eyes finally. His back was slightly uncomfortable, but there was a rug underneath him, so it wasn’t too bad. Even if it had hurt, Adam didn’t think he could get himself to care, with the way Ronan felt above him, around him.

After, Adam lay there for a few moments, a little dazed as Ronan cleaned up and dressed himself.

Ronan stood up and stared at Adam lying on the floor.

“Need a little help there?” Ronan asked, a teasing and content smile on his face.

“Yes, please,” Adam murmured, and lifted his arm upwards, entreating Ronan to grab it.

Ronan laughed and helped Adam up. When he was back on two feet, they stood with hands still tangled. Adam pressed his forehead against Ronan’s shoulder, still breathing heavily.

They stayed like that for a while, and then suddenly, Adam felt Ronan kiss the top of his head, a small and tender thing. Adam’s eyes fluttered shut. He felt wispy and weightless, like he could float away at any moment.

“Parrish,” Ronan said, voice low.

“Yeah?” Adam whispered.

“I’d like to get back to my book now if you don’t mind.”

Adam pulled back and smacked Ronan on the chest, making the other man cackle.

Just then, the apartment door flew open, and Ronan and Adam immediately jumped apart, wearing matching startled expressions.

Blue waltzed in and greeted the two of them, not seeming to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“Where’s Gansey?” She narrowed her eyes at Adam. “Did you talk to him?”

“He’s not home yet,” Adam told her.

Blue made a frustrated noise, collapsing on the couch in a huff. Then she stared at Adam in contemplation. “Your hair looks funny.”

Adam’s hands went to his hair and he tugged at the strands self consciously.

“His hair always looks funny,” Ronan said, unhelpfully.

Adam shot him a withering look, but didn’t acknowledge either of their comments. “I should go. It’ll be a while before Gansey gets here.”

“You go ahead,” Blue said. “I’m going to hang here with Ronan.”

“Who says I want to hang out with you, maggot?” Ronan snapped.

In retaliation, Blue got up and jumped onto Ronan’s back, hanging off of like a koala.

Adam left them to their scuffling and bickering, something strange and warm in his chest.

 

*

 

The next night, Adam arrived home from a long day at work and then several hours at the garage to find Henry hogging the shower with some guy he’d never seen before. They hadn’t even had the sense to lock the door, and Adam was mentally scarred for life.

He desperately needed a shower, though, so he walked over to Gansey and Ronan’s apartment, hoping there the shower would be available. When he got there, the door was unlocked yet again, and so was the door to the bathroom. Ronan’s head peaked above the beige shower curtain, jumping when Adam walked in and closed the door behind him.

“Hey,” Adam said, all casual. “Can I come in?”

“You’re already in,” Ronan replied, predictably.

Adam rolled his eyes. “In the shower, you moron.”

Ronan shrugged. Adam couldn’t see his shoulders, but his head seemed to bob with them.

“It’ll save water, I guess.”

Adam snorted. “Yeah.”

Ronan watched intently as Adam undressed, taking off his coveralls and the clothes underneath. He tried not to flush under the weight of Ronan’s gaze, but it was difficult. Ronan had a way of looking at people that seemed to take them apart, piece by piece, atom by atom, and that was intensified tenfold every time he looked at Adam.

When Adam got into the shower, his senses were overwhelmed by _skin_ , _wet, droplets, muscles, Ronan_.

Fuck.

He’d already seen Ronan naked, already stared and gaped and lusted over the lines of his body, the definition in his chest, the softness of his thighs, but seeing him under the spray of hot water, steam all around them, was a whole other story, making Adam’s desire rise up so high that he could barely contain it.

He stared shamelessly, while Ronan looked at him with an amused smile.

“The shower broke at your place, Parrish?”

Adam shook himself out of his lustful haze and scoffed. “No. Henry’s in there with a friend. And I really needed to shower after the garage.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean _why_? I smell like shit whenever I come from there.”

“No, you smell like gasoline.”

Adam crossed his arms, a little cold from not being directly under the stream of water. “Same thing.”

Ronan moved closer to him and put his hands on his hips. Adam shivered from the contact, wet skin on dry. “Not the same thing. I... I like how you smell.”

Adam furrowed his brow in confusion. “You do?”

Ronan started to kiss a line up his neck, and his breath was hot on his ear when he said, “Yeah. Gasoline is sexy.”

A laugh bubbled out of him. “Seriously?”

“You look hot in that mechanic outfit too, by the way,” Ronan murmured as he nipped his earlobe.

“My _coveralls_?” Adam asked, baffled.

“Yeah. Those.”

Adam didn’t know what to do with this bold, flirtatious Ronan, who told him he was hot so freely and easily, who touched him recklessly and without hesitation, his eyes burning with want.

It hit Adam suddenly, all at once, that Ronan desired Adam. That he was attracted to him. It should have been obvious, given what they’d done several times over by now, but he’d never really lingered on the thought. Ronan Lynch of all people hungered for _Adam,_ was turned on by _Adam_.

Adam could barely see, could barely stand up straight, with the intensity of this realization.

“Turn around,” Adam said, low and hoarse. He didn’t recognize his own voice.

Ronan complied without question, which just made Adam burn brighter, more desperate. And then Ronan’s tattoo was in front of him, intricate and incomprehensible and beautiful, there for Adam to touch and kiss and take apart, and Adam did just that, mouth on Ronan’s back while he fucked him.  

“Parrish, did you really come here because Henry was hogging your bathroom?” Ronan asked when they were finished.

Adam made an annoyed sound, front still pressed to Ronan’s back, both of them catching their breaths. “Yes.” Then, after a pause, he confessed, “But I was planning on meeting you here after I showered anyways.”

A laugh rumbled through Ronan, and Adam felt it in his own chest with the way they were pressed together.

“God, you are always so fucking horny. I didn’t think you’d be this horny.”

The words struck Adam to the core, twisting inside him uncomfortably. He didn’t know why.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Adam demanded. “You were plenty horny just now, too, Lynch.”

Ronan shook his head. “Yeah, but that’s not—nevermind.”

His shoulders were set in a way that meant he wouldn’t elaborate no matter how much Adam prodded, so Adam moved onto another thought.

“Did you think about this?”

Ronan stilled against him. “What?”

Adam pulled at Ronan’s shoulder until the other boy reluctantly turned around to face him. “I mean—before we ended up—you know. Had you thought about this?”

Ronan just scoffed.

“That’s not an answer,” Adam pointed out.

“Why? Did _you_ think about it?”

“Yes,” Adam replied automatically, then flushed when he realized what he’d said.

Ronan looked shaken for a moment, until his face warped into a smug mask. “You did?”

Adam didn’t meet Ronan’s eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t mean it like—I’d thought about it with everyone.”

Ronan’s eyebrow nearly flew up his hairline.  “Christ, Parrish, if you were fantasizing about us all having a fucking orgy or some shit—“

“Oh my god, shut up, no,” Adam said, whacking him in the shoulder. “They were just—passing thoughts, okay? You’re all attractive. Now let’s stop talking about this.”

“You’re the one who brought it up. I mean, really? You even thought about _Gansey_?”

Adam turned redder. “You _didn’t_?”

“Fuck no. Christ.”

“You know what, you made out with Henry, you’re not allowed to make fun of me for this,” Adam reminded him.

“I’ll make fun of you as much as I want. Now let’s get back to you thinking about _me.”_

Adam shoved Ronan again. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And you still thought about fucking me,” Ronan said, smirking.

“I mean,” Adam said, feeling flustered and out of sorts. “You look like _that_.” He lifted his arm up and down, indicating the length of Ronan’s body. “What the hell do you expect?”

Ronan’s smug smile turned into something sweeter, softer. He traced Adam’s cheekbone, brushed wet strands away from his forehead. “I didn’t expect this, that’s for sure,” he murmured, and the way Ronan said it, the way he looked at him, made Adam’s throat close up.

They stared at each other, and Adam swallowed, needing to say something, anything.

But then he heard the doorknob of the bathroom turn and out of instinct dropped to his knees. It was a good thing he did, because the next second, Gansey was in the bathroom.

Apparently Adam learned nothing from barging in on Henry and his friend, because he had forgotten to lock the door.

“Dick, what the fuck?” Ronan hissed.

The curtain covering the bathtub was opaque, so Adam couldn’t see anything from his position, and thankfully Gansey couldn’t see him either. Hopefully he didn’t notice Adam’s clothes piled in the corner of the bathroom.

“Well, you were taking forever in here, and I need to brush my teeth before I go meet Blue.”

 “I’ll be done in a fucking minute, can you get out?”

They continued to bicker while Adam stayed on the ground, which, well, put him in an interesting position.

Ronan stopped midway through whatever insult he was hurling at Gansey, breaking off in a gasp when Adam’s lips met his hipbone.

Ronan glared down at Adam, who was smirking up at him, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Ronan’s resulting expression said _do your best_.

So Adam did. And it was easy.

“Dick, you _really_ need to – _fuck­ –_ get out now.” Ronan’s teeth were gritted as Adam mouthed at his length, light and teasing and not enough, not nearly enough.

“Why—oh. _Oh_. Ronan are you—Christ, with me _in here_ \--?” Gansey sounded scandalized, voice high pitched and shocked.

“ _What_? Jesus Mary, _no_ , I’m not jerking off right now, you absolute fucking—“

Adam was too busy stifling his laughter against Ronan’s thigh to pay attention to the rest of their argument, but it ended in Gansey declaring he was leaving for Blue’s and that Ronan should really stop wasting so much water.

When Adam stood up again, Ronan immediately crushed his mouth against his own, muttering, “You fucking asshole,” between kisses.

Adam was still laughing. “That was close.”

“Yeah, because some idiot didn’t lock the damn door.”

“You should be thanking me,” Adam reasoned. “Now Gansey will never use the bathroom the same time as you ever again.”

Ronan huffed, unimpressed. “You know, to make up for it, you could at least finish what you started down there.”

Adam grinned and dropped to his knees again.

Eventually, their skin got too prune-like to continue, so Adam quickly rubbed soap on himself and they got out soon after.

As they toweled off and got dressed, Ronan said, “You could stay for a bit if you want. I was thinking of ordering pizza and watching a movie or something.”

Adam shook his head. “Can’t. I have to finish this thing for my boss by tomorrow.”

“You said you were planning to come here after taking a shower anyways,” Ronan reminded him.

“I know,” Adam scoffed, “And we used up all the time I’d had reserved for sex in that shower.”

“Fine,” Ronan bit out, looking disappointed and annoyed.

Adam didn’t want to deal with Ronan’s bad mood. He was too stressed, he had too much to do, so he gathered up his dirty clothes in his arms and left without another word.

 

*

 

When Adam arrived at Nino’s, Ronan and Henry looked to be in the middle of arguing. Adam noticed there were various bottles of hot sauce on the table, all different kinds, ranging from mild to extremely spicy.

“I can handle the spice,” Ronan was saying, “But I’m not doing your stupid bets anymore.”

“Yes, because you’re a weak, cowardly white man and _cannot_ handle the spice,” Henry corrected.

“No, because the chance of losing and doing the stupid shit you always come up with isn’t worth it, asshole.”

Adam thought he knew what he was talking about. The most vivid memory of Ronan losing one of Henry’s bets was when Henry had made Ronan say _you’re my friend and I care about you_ out loud three times in succession.

“I can’t believe you are so emotionally constipated that you had to lose a bet to finally admit that, Lynch,” Henry had said to him.

“It’s not _admitting_ anything if you fucking forced me to say it, Cheng,” Ronan had insisted, glowering and sporting a light flush on his cheeks.

Sometimes it was comforting to hear their familiar squabbling after a long day, but right then Adam had a headache. Adam collapsed beside Ronan, immediately putting his head on the table, pillowed in his arms.

“Adam. You alright?” Gansey sounded concerned.

“Fine.” Adam’s voice was muffled against his wrist. “Just tired.”

There were suddenly hands ruffling his hair, and Adam lifted his head to glare at Ronan. “Lynch, cut it out.”

Ronan lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“Yeah, and you’re making it worse,” Adam snapped.

“Whatever.”

Adam zoned out for most of dinner, ignoring Ronan and Ronan responding in kind. He was exhausted and annoyed, and still he felt the urge to reach out and touch Ronan. They hadn’t seen each other in three days, Adam being too busy drowning in work to interact with anyone. Three days wasn’t a lot, and yet Adam felt like he was missing something each day that he didn’t see Ronan, didn’t kiss him.

Adam nearly groaned at how pathetic he was being. Going three days without sex wasn’t a big deal. This casual sex thing with Ronan was spoiling him.

When all of them were nearly done with their pizza, Ronan stood up and got out of the booth, hand grazing Adam’s knee before he did.

He looked at Adam, then the rest of them. “I need to piss.”

Blue snorted. “Thanks for the important announcement.”

Ronan flipped her off, looking at Adam again one last time before leaving for the restroom.

Adam sat there, baffled. Did Ronan really want to have sex in a public bathroom? Adam had had sex in quite a few unorthodox places, but he’d never done _that_.

Ronan was being ridiculous.

Before he could register what he was doing, Adam muttered something about needing to use the restroom too and scurried away from the table.

Three days was a long time, if he really thought about it.

He suddenly wasn’t tired anymore.

When he reached the bathroom, Ronan was drying his hands. Adam locked the door behind them, figuring that he’d chalk it up to a mistake if someone tried to come in, before walking up to Ronan and kissing him.

Ronan startled but hesitantly kissed him back. When Adam grabbed his crotch, though, he jumped away, looking at Adam in shock.

“Parrish, what the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, confused. “Don’t worry, I locked the door this time.”

Ronan looked bewildered. “You locked—“ His eyes widened in realization. “You thought I came in here because I wanted to have sex?”

Adam didn’t understand. “I…”

Ronan started to smile, and Adam slowly realized he had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

 “Christ, man. You really wanted to do it here? At _Nino’s?_ ”

Adam’s face was burning. He wanted to sink into the ground and never come back out.

“You looked at me back at the booth,” Adam hissed. “You squeezed my knee, I thought—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ronan said, sounding genuinely confused. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t fucking intentional. I just needed to piss.”

Adam covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god,” he muttered.

Ronan was laughing, and Adam felt it like knife slashes through his abdomen.

“You don’t have to be a dick about this,” Adam told him, crossing his arms and glowering at the other man. 

“Oh, I definitely do,” Ronan replied, smirking. “We’re leaving for my place in like ten minutes anyways. You couldn’t keep it in your pants for that long?”

Adam pulled at his hair in frustration. “I _told_ you, I thought that you—you know what, nevermind. I’m out of here.”

Before Adam could get far, Ronan put his arm around his shoulder, an easy smile on his face. Somehow, that just exacerbated Adam’s irritation.

“Relax, Parrish. We can do it in here if you really want to.”

Adam shoved Ronan away from him, ears still uncomfortably hot. “How fucking generous of you,” Adam spit out, walking towards the door again.

Ronan followed on his heels as he trudged back towards their table, and Adam ignored him with a clenched jaw for most of the remaining night.  

When they all went back to Gansey and Ronan’s apartment to hang out, Adam sat beside Blue on the couch and listened to her complain about all her male coworkers at the tea shop she worked at part-time. He could feel Ronan’s gaze on him several times, but he didn’t acknowledge him.

He didn’t know why he was so upset about the Nino’s thing. It wasn’t actually a big deal. So he was a little embarrassed. Ronan had done plenty of embarrassing things throughout their friendship and Adam had been an amused and mocking witness to them all.   

Still, the uneasiness lingered, until Blue got up to join Gansey and Henry, and Ronan took her place on the couch.   

Before Adam could even react to that, Ronan’s breath was hot on his ear as he whispered, “I’ll meet you in the bathroom in two minutes.”

Adam stared at him and repeated dubiously, “The bathroom.” He narrowed his eyes. “If this is some sort of joke about before—“

“It’s not,” Ronan insisted. “We can’t use my room, there’s paint stuff everywhere.”

Adam’s wariness gave way to curiosity. So Ronan was painting again.

“Are you working on the same thing as before?” Adam asked, gaze drifting to Ronan’s bedroom door.

Ronan’s mouth twisted downward. “Don’t even think about it, Parrish.”

Adam waved his hand in dismissal, already figuring that was coming. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “So?”

Adam hesitated. His pride was telling him to say no, the anger from earlier an unwelcome weight in the back of his brain. But it was slowly dissipating due to the way Ronan’s light blue eyes were fixed on him and the starvation that was a constant presence deep inside his chest.

Adam exhaled. “Okay.” Ronan’s face broke out into a delighted grin, and if the upcoming sex didn’t make it worth it, at least that did.  

He got up and muttered to the rest of the group that he was using the bathroom, to which Blue asked why boys always needed to announce that they had to pee. Adam didn’t have an answer to that, so he didn’t bother replying and waited inside the bathroom for Ronan to appear.

The door was out of the line of sight of the rest of them and right next to the kitchen, so it should be easy for Ronan to pretend he was getting food or something, as long as they were quick.

He looked around the place while he waited, opening up a cabinet and staring at the various items, ranging from shaving gel to razors to skincare. The last thing was presumably Gansey’s, since Adam knew Henry had insisted on teaching Gansey a five step skincare routine that Gansey reluctantly adapted.

Adam waited and waited, five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. What the hell was taking Ronan so long? He began to grow antsy, wondering if this was a joke after all. He would have gone outside and checked, but he didn’t want to make it more difficult for Ronan to sneak in if the others saw him.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he went back out and saw that Ronan was slouched on the sofa, chatting with Henry, laughing at something the man said.

Adam took deep breaths and counted to ten. Then he walked over to the couch, going right past Blue and Gansey cuddled feet away and not paying attention to anyone else in the room.

Henry spotted him first. “Parrish, finally. You were in there for like half an hour, man. You alright? That Nino’s pizza got you down?”

Ronan turned to look at him and his eyes widened, expression morphing into something apologetic.

Adam puffed out a breath, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m fine,” he said curtly. “I’m leaving.”

“Parrish—“ Ronan started.

“Shut up, Lynch,” Adam said, not wanting to hear it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep for twenty four hours and forget about this entire day, forget that he and Ronan ever started this thing, whatever it was.

“But we were planning to play Monopoly,” Henry said, pouting.

“Sorry, Henry, but I’m really tired.”

He quickly said goodbye to Blue and Gansey, ignoring their brief protests for him to stay, and was out the door.

“Adam, wait.” Ronan came behind him as he was about to take the staircase to the ground floor of the building. He lightly grabbed Adam’s forearm, which Adam wrenched out of his grip.

“I need to get going,” Adam said, voice toneless and face blank, purposefully avoiding Ronan trying to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be pissed at me,” Ronan said, having the nerve to sound defensive. “Cheng sat down as soon as you fucking got up and started asking me advice about this guy he likes.”

“Right,” Adam said bitterly. “And you couldn’t get away for _half an hour_.”

“I couldn’t! He was all depressed and shit about it so I stayed for a bit and when I tried to say I needed food he _followed_ me and kept rambling.”

“Whatever,” Adam said, letting out a tired sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He didn’t care about Ronan’s excuses. This whole night still felt like a joke, and Adam was the punchline.

Ronan’s face twisted at Adam’s dismissive response. “I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass tonight, but this isn’t my fucking fault, so why are you—“

“Ronan,” Adam snapped, furious, “I’m fucking tired, I’ve had to deal with you being an asshole the entire night, and I’m really not in the mood to entertain more of your bullshit so can you just let me fucking go home?”

Ronan’s expression immediately shuttered, gaze hard and unforgiving. “Fine.” He turned around and strolled back to their apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Adam couldn’t sleep when he got home. He replayed the evening, and the times they’d been together before that, how _eager_ he’d been, how much he _wanted_ in a way that suddenly frightened him, filled him with a strange sort of embarrassment. His hunger felt too big for his body, a monstrous thing that was bound to escape and hurt someone when it did.

The things he’d thought when they’d showered together about Ronan being attracted to him disappeared into thin air, more powerful and self deprecating ones easily claiming their place.

Why was Ronan even doing this with him? Because he wanted to get laid? Because Adam was around and willing and not completely terrible to look at?

Maybe he got tired after a few times, deciding that it wasn’t that good, that it wasn’t worth it.

It shouldn’t have mattered to Adam. This was supposed to be casual and easy, and right then it felt anything _but_ easy.

It was fitting how quickly they’d devolved into fighting, because that was what they always did, and now with the sex their fights felt so much more complicated.

He received a text at four in the morning, at which point he was still wide awake.

 

**Ronan Lynch (4:03 am):** _i wasn’t making fun of u. u know that right?_

 

There was a massive lump in Adam’s throat. His fingers shook a little as he held his phone.

 

**Ronan Lynch (4:10 am):** _i’m sorry_

 

Adam felt like he could cry. It was surreal having Ronan Lynch apologize to him, over text of all things, about something so ridiculous where Adam was probably the one at fault. He didn’t respond, despite knowing he had his read receipts on, not because he was trying to punish Ronan, but because he didn’t know what to say.

It was a while before he finally fell asleep.

 

*

 

Adam was taking a nap after work the next evening, exhausted from not sleeping the night before. A knock on his door woke him up, and Adam told the person to come in, still sleep addled and not entirely aware of his surroundings.

The door shut behind the newcomer, and when Adam fully opened his eyes, he saw that Ronan was standing by the door, hands in his pockets, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” Ronan said. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sargent didn’t tell me you were sleeping.”

Adam sat up halfway, rubbing his eyes. “No, it’s fine.” His voice was dry from sleep, and he cleared his throat. “I had to wake up soon anyways.”

“Oh.”

Ronan looked at him, looking uncharacteristically unsure. Adam hated that he made Ronan look like that.

Ronan scratched the back of his head and said, “I brought cupcakes.”

Those were not the words Adam was expecting. “What?”

“You told me you wanted red velvet cupcakes. I baked some this morning and put a box of them in the fridge for you. Told Henry he’s not allowed to touch them, too.”

Adam blinked. “Oh, I—thank you.” He’d forgotten that he even asked Ronan for cupcakes, but he was touched that his friend remembered and baked them for him even though Adam had been an asshole to him the day before.

“You’re welcome.”

There was silence as the two of them avoided each other’s eyes.

Adam sighed and patted the spot next to him on the bed, sliding back down onto his pillow as he did. His limbs still felt heavy and sluggish from his nap. “Come here.”

Ronan walked over and slowly lay down next to him. They were on their sides facing each other. Ronan took Adam’s hands in his own and started tracing lines on his palms, his lashes low over his eyes.

Adam’s voice was hushed between them. “If…” He cleared his throat, the words sticking in his throat. “If you don’t want to keep doing this, we don’t have to.”

He had to say it, had to give Ronan a way out, in case that voice inside his head was right.

Ronan’s fingers stilled and he looked up at Adam’s face in disbelief. “You want to stop?”

The very thought was laughable. “No, _I_ don’t want to stop.”

The disbelief got stronger. “So, what, you think _I_ do?”

“I don’t know what you want,” Adam replied truthfully.

“I want _you_ ,” Ronan said viciously, somehow sounding angry and sincere at the same time, clearly annoyed at having to verbalize it.

The words struck Adam deep inside his gut, with the force of a punch but the sensation of something much kinder. It was like his realization in the shower that day, except a million times more potent, because it was _Ronan_ confirming it.

“Oh,” Adam said in a very small voice.

Ronan scoffed. “Why exactly did you think we were fucking? My dick doesn’t lie, Parrish.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of him.

Ronan smiled hesitantly. “You’re a fucking dumbass.” He sounded unbearably fond, and his hand came up to stroke Adam’s cheek. “Got all the beauty and no brains,” He teased, his thumb a light whisper on Adam’s ear.

Adam shot him a withering look, even though the hidden compliment made his cheeks feel warm.

“It’s not implausible that you’d change your mind,” Adam insisted, just for the sake of arguing.

“Well, I didn’t,” Ronan said. “And why would I? This is going good.” His voice lowered uncertainly at the last part, as if he was waiting for Adam to disagree.

“It is,” Adam said softly. “I thought it’d be weird, at first. But it’s not. It’s… good.” He reached out and slid his hand underneath Ronan’s t-shirt, palm against ribs.

Ronan exhaled shakily. His pointer finger drew a line down Adam’s throat. “Yeah.”

With his free hand, Adam cupped Ronan’s cheek and kissed him, a small, chaste thing.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Adam said against Ronan’s mouth. “I don’t know why I got so upset.”

He still didn’t understand his emotions from before, all messy and confusing and tangled up in his head.

“We’ve already established it’s because you’re an idiot,” Ronan retorted.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Ronan grinned. “Make me.”

So Adam kissed him, shoving his tongue messily into Ronan’s mouth, sliding his leg between his, rolling on top of him.

“You know, maybe we should do this in moderation,” Ronan breathed as Adam left wet kisses down his neck.

He lifted his head, raising an eyebrow in question.

Ronan huffed, looking a little embarrassed. “I’d gone months without sex and suddenly I can’t fucking do without it for four days.” He glared at Adam like he’d committed an unforgivable crime.

Adam laughed, nudging his nose against Ronan’s, feeling Ronan’s uneven breath on his lips. “Yeah, me either,” he admitted.

“So, maybe we should tone it down a bit,” Ronan said, sounding as if he wanted the exact opposite.

“Well,” Adam said slowly, “I was planning on fucking you, but hey, if you want to tone it down—“

He started to lift himself off the other man, but Ronan pulled back down and growled, “Asshole.”

Ronan swallowed up Adam’s laughter with his mouth.

“So we’re okay now, right?” Ronan asked as he zipped up his jeans afterward.

“Obviously,” Adam said from his place on the edge of his bed. “Now come here.”

Ronan huffed. “You just told me to _fuck off we can’t do it again_ because you have to work now.”

“I know what I said. Just come here, would you?”

When Ronan just stood there, Adam dragged him forward by his belt loops and pulled him down for a kiss. “Bye, Lynch,” Adam murmured against Ronan’s warm, kiss bruised lips.

Ronan smiled, surprised and pleased. “See you tomorrow, asshole.”

The moment Ronan left, Adam was already thinking about what they could do tomorrow. Screw moderation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sloppy chapter but hopefully the next one will be better. There was a Chandler/Monica inspired scene finally but it turned out way angstier than I originally planned so it's barely recognizable. I promise we're getting to more Feelings stuff soon. Leave a comment with your thoughts if possible! <3


	6. The One Who Lies Close To Me

“You’re grumpy,” Adam pointed out when he reached the bar.

Ronan startled at his voice, not having noticed Adam walk in and sit up on one of the stools in front of him. He’d been too busy furiously cleaning the wine glasses with a scowl etched on his face, clearly pissed off about something.

Nevertheless, when he spotted Adam, his lips turned up in a hesitant smile, brightening instantly. 

“Parrish,” Ronan greeted. “Thank fuck.”

Adam inclined an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Some annoying shithead was blabbing to me for like half an hour. Thought he was being smooth, too. Why can’t people take a fucking hint?”

A spike of irritation ran through Adam, sudden and piercing. “Isn’t that a regular occurrence for you at this point?”

Adam remembered the Gansey-like man who had given Ronan his number, one instance of many. But Ronan had never been anything but dismissive and cold when others hit on him, a fact that pleased and relieved Adam in a way he couldn’t understand. 

“Unfortunately,” Ronan grumbled. “I don’t know why. It’s not like I have a particularly friendly face.”

Adam shrugged. “They’re sad, and drunk, and probably think hooking up with the hot, angry bartender will alleviate all their troubles. I can relate to some of that.”

Ronan rolled his eyes, but his lips curved in a reluctant smile. “Save it, Parrish. I don’t need another desperate loser trying to flirt with me tonight.”

Adam flashed him an unimpressed look. Ronan just laughed and then slammed a glass of water in front of him. Adam inclined his head in question.

Ronan gave him a shit-eating grin. “You look thirsty.”

Adam shook his head and had to suppress a helpless laugh. “I swear to god, Lynch. I’m going to throw this glass of water at you.”

“Just drink it. You really do look like you need some water.”

Adam _was_ tired after his garage shift, and apparently it showed. He drank a few sips and after a few moments of silence, continued their earlier conversation. “You know, I slept with a bartender too, once.”

“I don’t think it was just once,” Ronan deadpanned.

Adam scoffed. “I don’t mean _you_. It was like a year ago. At some Gansey party in Long Island. It was just after my break up with Nancy. You were at the party, too.”

Ronan blinked. “Oh. I remember that. I talked to that dude and asked him about bartending because I’d been thinking about the job. You _slept_ with him?”

Adam winced under Ronan’s disbelieving judgment. “It was a rough night.”

“So this your new tradition now? Sleeping with a bartender every time you’re sad over a break up?”

Adam shot him a withering look.

“Guess you could’ve done worse than that guy,” Ronan said. “He was actually pretty interesting when I talked to him. Not totally hideous, either.”

Adam stared at him, unable to believe what he was hearing. Having Ronan praise a guy he’d slept with felt surreal. 

Ronan noticed his incredulous expression. “What?”

“I just—I never really pegged us as having the same taste in guys,” Adam said slowly.

Ronan looked amused. “What exactly do you think my taste in guys _is_?”

Adam tried to come up with a response to that, and instead drew up a blank. He considered the most probable answer. 

“I don’t know. Dangerous? Always wearing leather? Tattoos? Probably have lots of facial hair?”

Ronan laughed. “Really, Parrish?”

Adam crossed his arms defensively. “I’ve only met one of the guys you dated, and he fit that description precisely.”

Ronan’s brow wrinkled in confusion, and then he grimaced. “Oh, god, Matt? I dumped him after a month. Don’t know why I went out with him in the first place.”

This line of conversation put an uneasy feeling in Adam’s chest. Now he was thinking about Ronan with other guys, and that was—weird, for some reason. He remembered meeting that Matt guy, almost two years ago, a run-in that had been unbearably awkward for everyone involved. It shouldn’t have been awkward, but Ronan had looked like he wanted to jump out of his skin at the encounter and Adam had felt much the same way. 

Though, come to think of it, he’d never felt totally comfortable when Ronan was around the people he dated, either. 

Masochistically, Adam pried further. “Why? Not up to your standards? You know, he basically looked like a blonde version of you, and you’re definitely self involved enough to want to date yourself.”

Ronan scoffed. “He was a loser. Nothing like me.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”

Ronan flicked Adam’s hearing ear in response. 

Adam absently stirred the glass of water in front of him with a straw, his brain full of images of the dangerous, rebellious guys Ronan probably wanted to date. “How do you think I’d look with a tattoo?” Adam blurted out. 

Ronan looked taken aback by the question, and initial surprise gave way to mocking amusement. He barked out a laugh. “ _You_ with a tattoo? Please.”

Adam bristled and demanded, “What’s so funny about that?”

Ronan held out his hands in surrender at Adam’s irritation, one side of his mouth quirked up. “Just… I can’t actually imagine you ever getting one.”

“Why’s that? Because I’m not like _Mark_?” Adam sneered.

Ronan didn’t bother to correct the name. “Whatever. Make fun all you want, Parrish, but I know _your_ type.”

Adam raised a challenging brow. “And what’s that?”

“Gansey.”

Adam choked on his water. Coughing, he spluttered, “Excuse me?”

“You’re into the clean cut, studious, ambitious, professor type.” Ronan paused and smirked. “Or, you know, an actual professor. We’ve already discussed your thing for teachers.”

Adam glared at him and Ronan’s smirk widened. 

“That’s not necessarily my type,” Adam insisted.

“Come on. You know it is.”

“I dated Blue, and she’s the opposite of that,” Adam pointed out. Thoughtfully, he added, “Actually, she’s a lot like you.”

Ronan stilled, his fingers freezing on the wine glass he was wiping. 

Before he could respond, a group of women came up to the bar to order drinks, and Ronan’s attention was elsewhere for a while. Adam simply watched him and the knit between his eyebrows when he glared his customers. Though, from the way those customers were looking at him, they just found his glares sexy. Adam couldn’t really blame them. 

When they were gone, Ronan turned back to Adam and said, voice quiet, “It’d look good.”

“What?”

Ronan ran a hand across his head, not meeting Adam’s eyes. “You. With a tattoo. You’d look good.”

Adam suddenly felt flushed with heat. “Oh.” Then, just to be a shit, “So your type _is_ guys with tattoos.”

Ronan groaned in annoyance and retaliated by messing up Adam’s hair. Adam swatted his hand away and snickered. 

“Thanks, Parrish. It’s been a long day, and you saved me from being bored out of my fucking mind by annoying me to death.” 

“You’re welcome,” Adam replied cheerily. “How much longer do you have to be here?”

“Like, two more hours,” Ronan said, sounding surly and unhappy about his predicament. 

Adam had an idea of how to help. He cleared his throat and asked, “Did you really mean what you said last night?”

Ronan looked taken aback by the turn in conversation. “Which part?”

“The part about moderation.”

Ronan froze and studied Adam with narrowed eyes. Adam looked back, not breaking Ronan’s gaze. 

“Parrish,” Ronan said flatly, though Adam caught him perking up in immediate interest, much as he tried to pretend otherwise. “I’m working.”

“So take a break,” Adam suggested. He didn’t feel too guilty considering that he’d seen Ronan take breaks for much less dire situations, and for much longer than this would require. 

“I’m not that desperate for it,” Ronan said, sneering.

Adam shrugged. “Okay, if you say so. But just so you know, I came from a shift at the garage.” 

He had to suppress a smirk at Ronan’s expression. Two could play this game. 

He folded his arms on the countertop, warm fingers against cool granite, and stared at Ronan from underneath his eyelashes.

Ronan exhaled, tellingly shaky. “You’re such a little shit.”

Adam grinned and reached out with one hand, fingertips lightly tracing the back of Ronan’s palm where it was splayed out on the table. 

“We could go out in the back alley,” Adam murmured, voice low. 

Ronan swallowed and covered Adam’s hand with his, his touch roaming over his knuckles, following the green veins along his forearm. His eyes shot upward to Adam’s face, and Adam was immediately swallowed up by the want in them. Or perhaps something more than want. Something gentler.

Adam licked his lips, and watched Ronan’s gaze hone in on the movement. Untangling his hand from Adam’s, he reached out and carded his fingers through Adam’s slightly sweat-damp strands. Adam’s eyes fell shut automatically, and then the pad of Ronan’s thumb traveled down the side of Adam’s face, over his temple, eyebrows, cheekbone, touching his mouth. Ronan’s fingers were like raindrops falling gently on his skin. There were surely other people around them, talking, mingling, drinking, but it was all white noise, fading away. 

Adam exhaled as Ronan’s scalding touch passed over his throat and stopped at his collarbone. 

His eyes flew open, and there wasn’t enough time for Adam to catch the expression Ronan’s face held before it immediately changed to something more neutral. 

They locked gazes, waiting for the other to break. 

Ronan’s throat bobbed. “I’ll meet you there in five minutes.” 

Adam didn’t bother to hide his smugness, to which Ronan rolled his eyes and lightly pushed at his forehead with his palm. Adam dodged his hand easily and stuck his tongue out.

“Asshole,” Ronan muttered, though a smile was tugging at his lips. 

Adam felt strangely dizzy and dreamlike when he stood up, almost losing his balance. He started to walk to the door to the alley. “Don’t take half an hour this time.”

As it was, he only took two and a half minutes. Adam timed it. 

He came out through the back door of the bar, and they were surrounded by brick walls with only a tiny alleyway leading into the streets, providing them enough seclusion for the moment.

Adam was leaning against one of the walls, and Ronan immediately crowded him, trapping him with palms splayed on the wall on either side of Adam’s head. 

Adam grabbed Ronan’s shirt and pulled the other boy towards him; their mouths met hungrily, as if they’d been starved of each other for months rather than less than a day. 

He tried to keep his breathing in control as Ronan kissed down the side of Adam’s face and neck. “God,” Ronan groaned, nosing Adam’s throat, “You smell so good.”

“You have the weirdest turn-ons, Lynch.” 

“Shut up. We only have ten minutes, by the way, so there’s no time for you to be a smart ass.”

Adam smiled in satisfaction as he kissed Ronan’s jaw. “Oh, there’s always time for that,” he murmured against stubble. 

Then he flipped their positions, pressing hard Ronan against the brick wall, and without hesitation shoved his hand inside his pants. 

“Fuck,” Ronan said, voice high pitched, “Fuck, you are so—“

Adam kissed him to shut him up. 

“I can’t believe I have to go back to work right now,” Ronan complained, out of breath, as Adam zipped his pants back up. “How the hell am I supposed to work after this?”

“Sorry,” Adam drawled. “Did I distract you?”

“You _debauched_ me in the back of my workplace.”

“Right, because no one has ever had sex in the back of a bar before,” Adam said. He’d witnessed Ronan complaining several times about finding some stranger engaged in sexual activities in this very spot. Adam supposed they should’ve been more concerned about being caught themselves, but need clouded their brains.

“Maybe we should just get out of here,” Ronan said, taking the skin below Adam’s jaw between his teeth. “Gansey won’t be home.”

“You can’t just skip out on a shift. Besides, I just got you off, did that not satisfy you?”

Between kisses, Ronan murmured, softer than before, “I’m never fucking satisfied when it comes to you.”

Adam closed his eyes, letting the words and the gentle kisses wash over him like a gust of warm air. He wished they could go somewhere, that he could push himself inside Ronan and forget everything else, that Ronan could—

He said, reluctantly, “You should get back.”

Ronan just responded by licking a stripe down the side of his neck.

Adam laughed and pushed him away. “Gross.”

Then Ronan slipped his hands underneath Adam’s shirt, palms warm on his back, and Adam could do nothing but shudder and let Ronan kiss him deeply and desperately for another minute. 

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam finally said. “They’re going to fire you.”

The other boy groaned. He leaned his forehead against Adam’s and let out a frustrated breath. 

“Fuck. Fine. At least—you should come over tonight,” Ronan said, and he nearly sounded like he was begging. 

Adam left a kiss on Ronan’s cheekbone. “Can’t. I have a lot of work to get done.” 

Ronan pulled back and crossed his arms, and—god, he was _pouting_.

“Jesus, Lynch,” Adam said, smiling helplessly, “Thought you said you weren’t that desperate for it.” 

Ronan leaned back against the wall, letting out a sigh so big it sounded like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “I lied.”

Adam shook his head in exasperated fondness and took Ronan’s face in his hands, kissing him one last time. “I’ll see you soon.”

Before he could pull away, Ronan grabbed one of Adam’s hands and brought it to his lips, before letting him go. Absurdly, for a split second, Adam conjured up an image of a knight kissing the hand of a lady, and then shook himself out of whatever trance he was in. He gave Ronan half a smile and left. 

An hour later, when he was sitting with Henry on the couch in his apartment, typing on his laptop, his phone buzzed with a text. 

It was a photo of Ronan somehow glaring and pouting at the same time, with the words _got another hour at this shithole_ underneath. 

“What are you smiling so wide at?” Henry’s suspicious voice asked.

“Nothing,” Adam said quickly, turning his phone’s screen face down. 

Henry’s eyes narrowed. 

Adam shut his laptop and said, “I’ll be right back.”

Inside his room with the door shut, he took off his clothes.

Only a little apprehensive about what he was doing, Adam sent a text with an image attached, with the words _Maybe this will make the time pass quicker._

There was no response for five minutes, ten, fifteen, an hour. Which was fine. It’s not like Adam was obsessively _waiting_ for one or stewing in anxiety and regret over the whole thing. 

An hour and fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on their apartment door. Adam didn’t even get time to murmur a greeting before Ronan was kissing him roughly, right there in the middle of the doorway. Adam dragged him inside and shut the door, breaking away from the other boy.

“Lynch, what the hell?” It was a good thing that Henry had left and Blue was out until late, because Ronan didn’t exactly stop to scope out the place before shoving his tongue inside Adam’s mouth. 

Ronan glared at him. “I could ask you the same thing, Parrish.”

Adam’s lips quirked. “Does that mean you didn’t like it?”

Ronan huffed. “I had enough of a problem focusing as it is. And then you send me _that_.”

“I’m sure you were fine.”

“I dropped a fucking whiskey bottle when I opened your stupid goddamned text.”

Adam laughed, his hands resting on the back of Ronan’s neck. “I make you really clumsy, apparently.”

“You fucking asshole,” Ronan muttered, then kissed him ferociously. Adam grumbled about having work to do, but when Ronan started to move away, he pulled him back in again. 

He’d just sleep later tonight and be exhausted the day after. This was worth it. 

They stumbled across the main room and into Adam’s, until Adam’s back hit the bed, banging into objects along the way and laughing when they nearly tripped. Ronan undressed Adam thoroughly, mapping the valleys of his body with concentration. Adam protested weakly that there wasn’t time to take it slow, but Ronan clung onto him, mouth incessant on his neck, chest, hands roaming everywhere as if he was trying to memorize Adam’s precise form through touch alone. 

“I want—“ Ronan started, then got distracted by a cluster of freckles along Adam’s hipbone, putting his mouth to them with singular focus. Though Adam very much enjoyed this, he gently nudged Ronan’s head, and Ronan reluctantly lifted his face and looked at Adam again, his mouth red and wet and enticing. 

“I just want to touch you.” Ronan’s voice was trembling and thick, as if the words pained him, or the wanting pained him, or both. “Just—just let me touch you for a bit.”

Adam inhaled, feeling jarred by the sudden shift in mood, feeling something else entirely from Ronan’s words and the way his blue eyes nearly pleaded with Adam. As if Adam would actually deny him.

“Okay,” Adam whispered, laying his head back down on the pillow, leaving himself open to Ronan to do as he pleased. “Okay.”

There wasn’t much time left after that for Adam to fuck Ronan, so it was quick and rough and the very opposite of what came before, though it felt just as amazing. 

“Do you want me to delete the picture?” Ronan asked hesitantly as they got dressed, making haste since Blue or Henry would likely arrive any second and Adam still had a lot to get done. 

Adam shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “You can keep it if you want.”

Ronan tried to hide his smile, turning his face slightly away. “Okay.”

 

*

After a long and frustrating Wednesday at work, Adam just wanted to relax with his friends before collapsing into bed. Normally he’d be dreading watching another one of Gansey’s favorite movies, but situated on the couch with a gigantic blanket that smelled like Ronan and his friends around him, he couldn’t get himself to care.

Gansey brought out a large bowl of various candies and snacks, which Henry immediately leaped toward. Adam was reluctant to break out of his cocoon of warmth to reach for it, but he didn’t end up needing to.

Ronan sat next to him on his hearing side and wordlessly handed him a Twix bar. There was warmth in this, too: Ronan knowing what Adam needed without Adam having to say it, and sitting beside him without hesitation. Adam wondered how his life had gotten to the incredible and awe-inducing point where Ronan Lynch’s place by his side was a given. 

Ronan watched in amusement as Adam ripped open the wrapper with unrivaled force and practically inhaled the chocolate bar.

“I’m hungry,” Adam said by way of explanation, mouth full and crumbs falling out as he tried to chew and speak at once.

Ronan made a face. “Slob.”

In response, Adam stuck his Twix-filled tongue out. “I just… really needed some chocolate tonight,” Adam sighed. “Work was exhausting.”

“I could help you relax again,” Ronan suggested, meaningful and low. 

Adam rolled his eyes and didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. 

While Gansey turned the lights off and fiddled with the remote, Ronan took the part of the blanket that wasn’t wrapped around Adam and put it over himself, so that both of them were side by side under the same blanket, which was covered with cartoon cows, a gift from Blue ages ago when she first found out Ronan grew up on a farm. 

The room got quiet, and near darkness shrouded them. Ronan and Adam were the only ones on the couch - Henry sat on the armchair and Gansey on the floor with Blue laying in his lap. Adam felt a tinge of something when he looked at the couple, an unpleasant emotion he couldn’t name. Maybe it was just leftover jealousy about Blue. He hadn’t thought there was any of that left. 

He focused his eyes forward. Ronan’s arm was pressed against his, the blanket pulled nearly up both of their necks. 

It was strange how the same things felt entirely different now. They’d sat side by side like this endless times over the years, and sometimes their shoulders and knees would touch, or Ronan would put his arm on the back of the couch and his fingers would casually brush Adam’s back. There was always something uniquely comfortable about their friendship and the way they gravitated towards each other regardless of who else was in the room. 

But that was _before_. Now, Adam was hyperaware of every place they touched, no matter how casual the setting or circumstances, because he knew where else they could touch each other. Now, Adam leaned into Ronan, pressing their sides even closer together, suddenly and absurdly aching to put his head on Ronan’s shoulder or even in his lap the way Blue did in Gansey’s. He shook that thought away. That would be weird. Very weird. 

Ronan responded to Adam’s increasing closeness by melting into him further, almost a reflexive move, and Adam felt like bursting with something, a soft white light that was getting bigger and bigger inside his chest, his body too small and limiting to contain it. 

_Watch the movie, Adam_.

Ronan whispered something in his ear, minutes later, mocking what was on the screen as usual, and Adam snorted with laughter, loudly and a little unattractively, pressing his forehead into Ronan’s shoulder to try to stifle his amusement. 

Gansey gave them both an irritated glare, to which Ronan stage-whispered, “Sorry, _Dad_.”

Adam and Ronan shared an amused look.

Adam looked back at the screen. He’d already lost track of the plot. It was some period drama that Gansey had been raving about, and after about a minute of watching and his eyes nearly glazing over, he decided it was hopeless.

He shifted his gaze to something far more interesting: the boy beside him. 

Ronan’s countenance was relaxed, bored, the picture of carelessness. The light from the TV made his features look sharper. Adam nearly leaned over and bit his jaw, right there and then.

Ronan’s eyes slid over to Adam and caught him watching, lips lifting in a half smirk. He leaned over and murmured, mouth brushing Adam’s ear, “Pay attention to the movie, Parrish.”

Adam scoffed and looked forward again, but he could still feel the touch of Ronan’s lips on his ear, and remember him saying _I could help you relax again_. 

Under the soft blanket, Adam moved his hand so that three of his fingers were resting on the back of Ronan’s wrist. Ronan spasmed under his touch, and then turned it over so that Adam was brushing the tender skin of his wrist, feeling the veins and the faint hint of old scars. Being guided by some unknown force, Adam grazed the inside of Ronan’s forearm, traveling up and down again, then putting his hand on Ronan’s knee, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

He was still staring ahead, so he couldn’t see Ronan’s face, but he heard a small intake of breath. The darkness felt exhilarating, and he needed Ronan closer, _closer_.

His hand traveled up Ronan’s thigh, along his waistband, landed on the zipper of his jeans. 

There was a shaky exhale from beside him.

Ronan’s hand covered his, guided it lower, cupping him half hard through his jeans. 

Ronan’s breathing was shallow and quick, and Adam could feel it with how their shoulders and sides were pressed together. Adam finally turned his head sideways, and Ronan did too, and their gazes met in a crackling of thunder that no one but themselves could hear. 

Adam’s teeth worried his bottom lip. Ronan was open-mouthed and delirious.

When Adam started to toy with the zipper again, though, Ronan abruptly got up. 

“This movie is shit,” Ronan said, voice tight. “I’m peacing out.”

“Party pooper,” Blue called out as Ronan stalked off to his room and slammed the door. 

Adam sat there, feeling confused and overwhelmed. Did he cross a line? He wasn’t going to actually get Ronan off only feet away from their friends. Maybe the teasing was too much. Maybe he was once again coming off as too greedy. 

He wondered if he should go after Ronan. But Ronan had clearly seemed pissed off. He probably wanted to be alone, not bothered by Adam’s suffocating presence. 

He’d been mulling it over for nearly ten minutes, hands fidgeting and restless, body missing Ronan’s heat next him, when Ronan’s head popped out of his room.

“Parrish. I need your help.”

Gansey paused the movie. “Ronan, do you really have to interrupt every—“

“Shut up Gansey,” Ronan snapped. “Parrish.”

Adam just stared at him, not understanding. 

“ _Parrish_ ,” Ronan said again, and there was a desperate edge to it, clear hunger and need in his voice. 

Adam broke out of his bewildered trance and hastily stood up. 

Ignoring his friends’ dubious glances, Adam told them he’d be right back, though he didn’t know if that was true. 

When he was inside Ronan’s room, the door shut behind them, Ronan immediately kissed him. 

Nearly flailing out of surprise, Adam reached back with one hand to lock the door while Ronan’s tongue licked inside his mouth. 

“What are you doing,” Adam gasped as soon as he could catch his breath. 

“What took you so long,” Ronan growled.

Adam blinked. “I—I didn’t know you wanted me to come in here.” 

“Seriously?” Ronan scoffed.

Adam crossed his arms. “You just suddenly stalked off! I thought you were mad or something.”

Ronan’s disbelief turned into amusement. “So I leave to piss in a public bathroom and you jump me, but I literally fucking put your hand on my dick and you think I’m brushing you off?”

Well. When he said it like that. 

“You are fucking terrible at reading signals, Parrish,” Ronan said when Adam just responded with a wordless glare. 

Adam sighed, not having the patience to argue, and Ronan maybe had a little bit of a point in this case. “Are you just gonna keep insulting me or do you want to do something else?”

Ronan grinned. 

At one point, when Adam was sucking him off, Ronan couldn’t stop a loud _fuck_ from escaping his mouth, and then Ronan had to answer Gansey’s inquiries from the other room by saying he stubbed his toe. 

“Maybe you should be quieter, Lynch,” Adam whispered to Ronan, snickering. 

Adam regretted his words when Ronan later did something that nearly made him scream. He didn’t think the stubbed toe excuse would have sufficed that time. 

When they were both panting and satisfied, Adam said, “Jesus. I’ve never had sex this frequently even with the people I was actually dating.”

Ronan’s face contorted for a fleeting moment. “Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

Adam ran his fingers through his dusty strands. “I don’t know. It’s just—weird. I’ve never been this—this—“

“Desperate?” Ronan supplied, and then cackled when Adam glared at him. “Don’t blame me, man. I was just minding my own business this time when you started groping me under the covers.”

Adam felt his cheeks burn, the reality of how his actions probably came across only now hitting him. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re upset I didn’t let you watch the movie,” he said sarcastically, voiced laced with purposeful contempt. 

“I’m devastated, Parrish. I was fucking dying to know about if that dude in the ugly hat got the girl or not.”

“Well then I’m sure Gansey would love to fill you in.”

Ronan leaned over Adam and pressed his lips to Adam’s earlobe. “This was much better.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile before playfully shoving him away. 

When they went back outside and reclaimed the couch, Gansey asked what they were doing for so long, and Ronan made up some bullshit about needing Adam’s advice on a painting. Which was the most ridiculous excuse he could come up with, but he didn’t seem to have tried too hard, his eyes focused on Adam’s hands as they rested on his lap and voice distant. 

Adam took one of those hands that for some reason captured the other man’s attention so easily, and pinched Ronan’s side. Ronan’s gaze reluctantly snapped back to Gansey.

Gansey turned to Adam, expecting him to elaborate. 

Adam just shrugged. “Your movie’s boring as shit, Gansey. Can’t blame him for wanting to do something more interesting.” 

Ignoring Gansey’s wounded look, Adam added, “Besides, he’s an artist. You never know when inspiration could strike.”

“You heard him, Dick,” Ronan said, sounding gleeful. “I’m an _artist_. You wouldn’t understand.”

Adam had to stop himself from laughing at the expression on Gansey’s face. 

As the rest of the movie played on the large screen in front of them, Adam and Ronan sat pressed closer than ever. Their eyes met every few minutes, exchanging discreet glances about nothing in particular. It was like they were in a secret bubble, sharing something no one else was privy too, and Adam shouldn’t have liked that nearly as much as he did. He shouldn’t have felt so thrilled by it, shouldn’t have coveted it with a fire that he hadn’t known he possessed. 

_This is mine_ , Adam thought, as his eyes fell to Ronan’s savagely handsome profile again and his mind conjured up the sounds of Ronan gasping as Adam took him apart. _Whatever this is, it’s mine._

 

*

 

Ronan was laying on his bed when Adam reached his and Gansey’s apartment the next night, staring at the ceiling with no tangible emotion on his face. He didn’t even react to Adam’s showing up, which was especially strange. 

Ronan only seemed to notice another person in the room when Adam stretched out next to him, surprised at the body appearing suddenly beside him. 

“Parrish,” Ronan said, tone audibly annoyed. 

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Bad time?” 

Adam had walked there on impulse when it was almost ten, hearing from Blue that Gansey wouldn’t be home until late hours of the night and figuring that he and Ronan could put the empty apartment to good use. 

“No,” Ronan muttered, not particularly convincing. 

“Were you meditating or something?”

“Yeah. I was chanting ‘kill Declan’ in my head.”

“Of course you were,” Adam replied, now entirely unsurprised that Ronan was in a shitty mood.

When Ronan didn’t say anything else, Adam stayed quiet and let him decide if he wanted to talk about it. Sometimes he didn’t, and Adam would just sit with him, and that would be enough. Today, though, Adam suspected Ronan was itching to get something out. 

His suspicions were right. After a few minutes of silence, Ronan spit out, “He wants me to _display_ it.”

Normally Adam was pretty good at parsing through Ronan’s nonsensical words and making sense out of them, but even he couldn’t work with this little context.

“Ronan, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific,” Adam said when Ronan didn’t add anything else. 

Ronan let out a sigh, as if Adam was asking him to do something unimaginably burdensome. Though, for Ronan, Adam supposed using his words _was_ unimaginably burdensome. 

“My paintings. He wants me to display them. In a—in a fucking _gallery_. Said that if I was so into this _hobby_ of mine I should turn it into something useful.” 

“Okay,” Adam said cautiously, still not understanding Ronan’s aggressive disdain. “I don’t really see the problem.” 

Ronan glowered at him, like Adam had committed some sort of betrayal with his innocent words. “Really, Parrish?”

“Yes, really, Lynch,” Adam snapped. “I’m not a mind reader. I won’t know what’s bothering you unless you tell me.”

Hurt passed over Ronan’s face, brief but potent. Adam felt a little guilty, though he didn’t know what exactly he said that could have cut Ronan so significantly. 

“You kind of are, though,” Ronan said, softer than before.

Adam stared in confusion. 

“You read my mind all the damn time.” 

Adam was momentarily speechless, opening his mouth without any words prepared. Luckily Ronan switched gears immediately. 

“Declan said he had fucking _connections_ and could easily get my art displayed in a lot of _respectable_ places. Whatever the fuck that means.” 

“And, what, Declan using his connections bothers you?” Adam tried to keep his tone neutral, but he couldn’t help sound a bit dismissive. He’d always been envious of how Ronan and Gansey had things handed to them, and of course only those who had the world in their palms then threw it away without any thought at all. 

Ronan shook his head. “No. I mean, yeah, I want my shithead brother staying the fuck away from my life and my art as far as possible, but—that’s not—I just couldn’t do it. Any of it.” 

Adam waited, and Ronan made a frustrated sound, hands balling into fists at his side. “I can’t fucking show my shit to people.” 

_Oh_.

That was the difference between him and Ronan. It was something Adam had always admired about Ronan, his ability to not constantly seek the world’s approval, to not care at all what people thought of him. Unless said people were the very few Ronan actually loved, in which case he cared too much. 

To Adam, being good at something never meant anything unless it could be used as a stepping stone to success, and success never meant anything unless others were there to see it. Adam needed it written in ink, across diplomas and plaques and newspapers, something concrete and irrefutable, and he needed it reflected back in people’s eyes, as they watched him with the same awe and envy he’d once possessed, when he was a dust covered boy from the trailer park. 

At least, that was how he’d felt for most of his life. But the lines seemed blurrier now, and Adam found that his list of priorities wasn’t as set in stone as he’d always expected it to be. 

“Don’t know why Declan would even try that crap with me,” Ronan went on, scoffing. “I’ve never even shown _him_ my paintings. The only time he’s ever seen any of them is when he fucking went behind my back and broke into my crap. The bastard.” 

Adam opened his mouth to comment, but Ronan was on a rampage with his words, very possibly having forgotten Adam was even there. 

“Shit, I hate letting anyone fucking see them. My friends have barely seen one or two and he thinks I’d want to parade it to any dipshit that walks in the door? He can go fuck himself.” 

At the end of his tirade, Ronan was breathing hard, like speaking about the subject alone had gotten him worked up. 

Adam moved closer and turned onto his side. He reached out with his left hand, lightly brushing his fingers over Ronan’s chest. Ronan was wearing one of his black tanks - Adam had seen the inside of his closet plenty of times, and he had at least fifteen of the same kind - and the fabric was soft underneath Adam’s touch. Ronan looked good in pretty much everything, but Adam was always particularly thankful for how these highlighted his glorious arms. 

Ronan finally turned his head and looked at Adam, eyes softening from the angry glare of a moment ago. He shifted his arm and touched Adam’s fingers with his own, pads pressing against knuckles, just barely. 

“You show _me_ your art,” Adam pointed out quietly. “Not everything, but way more than one or two.”

Ronan’s gaze turned back to the ceiling. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re _you_.”

“What does that mean?”

Ronan let out a deep sigh, as if Adam had asked something particularly stupid, and turned onto his side to meet Adam’s eyes. “It means I trust you, asshole.” 

For the second time in minutes, Ronan rendered him speechless.

The silence was thick and suffocating.

“Oh,” Adam finally replied, voice small.

Part of him wanted to ask why the same didn’t apply to Gansey and Blue and Henry, but if he was being honest, he probably already knew the answer, and it was mirrored inside him. 

He trusted Ronan more too, in a way he’d never really trusted anyone else. They were closer than the others, saw each other right down to their barest bones. 

Ronan Lynch was his best friend, and Adam trusted him with his life. 

Adam inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, imitating the way Ronan sometimes breathed. 

“Well,” Adam said, attempting to make his voice light, “if you trust me so much then why haven’t you shown me whatever you’ve been working on recently?” 

Ronan groaned, whacking Adam’s chest in annoyance. “Shut up. It’s not finished.”

“So you’ll show me when it _is_ finished?”

Ronan averted his eyes, not answering. 

“ _Ronan_. Come on. You’ve been even more secretive than usual about this one. What’s the issue?”

Adam’s curiosity was burning him alive. He wanted to know everything. He wanted a complete picture of Ronan Lynch, a jigsaw with a million disparate parts that clashed against one another. Each of his artworks was another piece of the puzzle that was his soul, and though Adam knew that the puzzle was infinite, that no one could truly complete it, he wanted to try anyways. 

Ronan’s voice was quiet when he answered. “I don’t know what you’ll think of it. You… you might not like it.”

Whatever Adam was expecting, it wasn’t that. 

It was painfully humbling, for someone like Ronan to value someone like Adam’s opinion so much. 

And Adam wanted Ronan to value it, but he didn’t want Ronan to be _afraid_ of it. 

He cupped Ronan’s cheek with his hand, brushed his thumb over Ronan’s brow. “Don’t be stupid,” Adam said softly.

At Adam’s touch, Ronan squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment before reopening them. 

“And, you know,” Adam continued, “you don’t necessarily have to trust every person that you show your art to.” Ronan opened his mouth to protest, but Adam didn’t let him. “It’s really good, Ronan. Your art—it’s incredible. People should see it.” 

Ronan stared at Adam for endless seconds, eyebrows knitted. “I can’t believe you’re taking Declan’s side,” Ronan said at last, voice flat. 

Adam let out a frustrated huff. 

“You know he told me if I wanted to get anywhere I’d have to grow out my fucking hair.”

Adam blinked, thrown by the non sequiter. “He—what?”

“He said my buzzcut made me look like a _delinquent_ ,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes.

Adam’s lips quirked. “Well, it kind of does.”

“Traitor.”

Adam laughed and moved his hand to the back of Ronan’s head, feeling the pleasant sensation of his prickly hair. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. The delinquent look is very flattering on you.” 

Ronan smirked, all arrogance again. “Is it?”

Adam could’ve deflected with some snarky comment, could’ve felt embarrassed by his own desire, but instead he leaned closer and nudged Ronan’s nose with his own, feeling the other man’s exhales on his lips. “Yeah,” Adam breathed. “It is.”

When he captured Ronan’s mouth between his, Ronan’s fingers buried themselves in Adam’s hair as if by reflex. 

“Maybe you _should grow_ your hair out though,” Adam murmured as they separated. At Ronan’s betrayed look, he added, “I just mean—I liked your curls.” 

Ronan’s expression turned confused. “When did you even see me with hair? I don’t think I’ve grown it out since I was in high school.”

“Um,” Adam shifted uncomfortably. The memory wasn’t the most pleasant to talk about. “It was back around the time we first met. Or maybe a couple months after. You didn’t have it for very long before you shaved it again, but I definitely saw it.”

Ronan’s eyes cleared, realizing what Adam was referring to. “Oh. Shit. Yeah.” He let out a self deprecating sound. “When I was drunk every fucking day for weeks and couldn’t be bothered to shower, much less shave anything.”

Adam winced. “Yeah.”

He remembered the early days of knowing Ronan vividly, the hatred and the anger and the intrigue he’d felt. Sometime in those first couple months, Ronan had gone off the rails spectacularly, and Adam had witnessed him at his most drunk and desolate, a haunted look to his eyes. 

It had been a shock to Adam’s system. Having first encountered Ronan without hair, that initial image became intrinsic to Adam’s understanding of him, as the rebellious, angry, cruel boy with the tattoo and buzzed head, savagely handsome in all leather. They didn’t exactly hang out regularly at the time, so when Adam ran into Ronan for the first time in weeks and he seemed to have suddenly sprouted curls, looking a million years younger, Adam barely recognized him.

It had been a relief when Ronan showed up days later while he was eating dinner with Gansey and Henry, sober and head shaved once again, still sharp edged but not the wild, unpredictable version of him Adam had seen for a little while. 

Despite his uneasiness, though, that was the first time Adam had seen something _more_ to Ronan, a crack in his facade. Some sliver of pain and feeling and humanity broke through the ice. And once Adam had seen it, he couldn’t _stop_ seeing it, couldn’t stop searching for more cracks, trying to peel the layers away to get to the core, even as the two boys fought and hissed and spit fire at each other. 

After the whole ordeal, with some gentle prodding by Adam, Gansey had explained that Ronan shaved his head because he couldn’t stand looking in the mirror and seeing his father, and that had only added fuel to Adam’s flames. 

“Feel like I was blacked out for most of that time,” Ronan muttered, bringing Adam back to the present. 

“You probably were,” Adam admitted. “You were… definitely a mess. I already hated you, and seeing you like that probably should’ve made me hate you more, but…” He trailed off, his meaning clear. 

“But it didn’t,” Ronan finished for him, with the barest hint of a smile.

“Yeah.”

In a dubious tone, Ronan said, “And you want me to look like that again.”

Adam scoffed. “Well, no, not the drunken self destructive mess part, obviously. But that was the first and only time I saw you with your hair grown out, and…”

Ronan waited.

Adam shrugged. “Liked I said, I liked it. You looked good.” 

Even when Adam hated him, he could acknowledge Ronan’s attractiveness, with hair and without. 

Ronan’s expression turned pleased. “Maybe I’ll grow it out a little then.” 

Adam raised an eyebrow. “That easy?”

“Hey, if you’re that hot for me with curls, who am I to deny you?”

Adam whacked Ronan on the head, and Ronan laughed. 

“Asshole.” Then, “Would you be okay with it, though? I mean… I know you have your reasons for not growing it out,” Adam said carefully. 

It had been mentioned between them before over the years, offhandedly, or as offhand as a fact this painful could be, but Ronan still averted his eyes in discomfort. 

“I did,” Ronan said. “But—I think I want to now.”

Adam nodded, accepting that. “Okay.”

Ronan exhaled loudly. “Fuck. I’m tired of talking. I’m guessing that’s not what you came here for.”

Adam tried not to look sheepish. “Well, I—“

But he didn’t get to finish his thought, because Ronan’s lips were on him immediately. Adam didn’t protest, reached for Ronan just as hungrily. 

“Let’s not talk,” Ronan begged into Adam’s cheek. 

“Okay,” Adam breathed. 

Clothes were discarded, supplies taken out, and Ronan was handing the lube bottle to Adam when—

“Wait.”

Ronan inclined his head in question.

Adam looked at him from his position in Ronan’s lap. He studied Ronan’s bright eyes, his knitted eyebrows, the curve of his mouth that could be so cruel and so kind at the same time. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Adam told him, calm and matter-of-fact. 

Ronan’s eyes bugged out. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“What?” Adam asked dryly, amused at Ronan’s response. “Never been on top before, Lynch?”

That broke Ronan’s trance, and he scoffed. “Fuck off.”

Adam laughed. “So?”

Ronan rolled them over and laid Adam down on the bed. Leaning back on his heels, he poured lube onto his hands, keeping their gazes locked. 

Ronan was exceedingly cautious when working Adam open, so much so that Adam had to repeatedly murmur, “Come _on_ , hurry up.” He was impatient to have Ronan inside him, even though he hadn’t done it like this in a while and it was probably smart to let Ronan take his time. 

Aside from the first time, when Ronan had voiced what he wanted, he’d mostly let Adam take the lead in whatever happened and never questioned why Adam always ended up topping.

It wasn’t like Adam had never been fucked. Quite the opposite. But he’d been wary and afraid of the idea at first, not wanting to let someone else have control, not wanting his body to be open like that, and he still didn’t always go for it.

But right then, he wanted it, more than he’d ever wanted anything. It hit him with a startling intensity, and Ronan had to tell him to be patient while he put a condom on, when Adam couldn’t keep his breathy pleas inside any longer. 

“Christ, Parrish, relax, my dick and your ass aren’t going anywhere.”

“Oh my god,” Adam groaned. “You are literally incapable of being sexy, Lynch. You ruin it every time with your goddamned mouth.”

It was then that Ronan lined himself up and pushed inside Adam. Adam made a choked off sound, hands fisting in the sheets. 

He kissed underneath Adam’s ear, circling his tongue around it while he pushed further inside, making Adam arch up suddenly and suck in a ragged breath in surprise. 

“Still not capable of being sexy?” Ronan teased.

Adam replied with incoherent noises. 

Incoherent noises were all he could manage, really, as Ronan fucked him slowly, too slowly, and Adam let out something that resembled _please_ , _please, faster,_ and Ronan increased his pace. 

Ronan’s mouth was right by his hearing ear, and Adam could hear every reaction with devastating clarity. And Ronan could hear Adam, too; Adam had never been particularly loud during sex, but now he couldn’t control himself, could only completely let go for Ronan. 

His nails were digging into Ronan’s back as Adam clutched him desperately, and his legs came to wrap around Ronan’s thighs, gripping so hard that they’d probably leave bruises. Want and pleasure were building and building inside Adam and he knew they could only be released in a scream, so he bit down on Ronan’s shoulder to stifle it, using it to ground him.

Ronan was as deep inside him as he could go, as close to Adam as he could get, and somehow it still wasn’t enough. Adam wanted to fuse their bodies together, inhale every part of Ronan that existed.

As Adam got closer to the edge, Ronan pulled back a little to look at him. Adam didn’t know what his face looked like, but Ronan’s expression could only be described as worshipful. 

“God,” Ronan rasped, “God, Adam, you’re—“ 

Adam pulled his face down for a kiss before he could finish his sentence and shatter Adam with it. 

When it was over and Ronan was going to pull out, Adam tightened his grip and murmured, “Wait.”

Ronan waited, stayed inside him for a little bit longer. He nuzzled his face into Adam’s damp neck, nose rubbing gently across fevered skin. 

It could’ve been seconds or minutes or hours later, but at last Adam loosened his clutch and Ronan lifted off of him and rolled over onto his back

They lay side by side, panting and overwhelmed.

Adam let out a deep breath. “Shit,” he said into the silence. 

Ronan huffed in amusement. Smirking and making a crude gesture, he drawled, “What? Too much for you, Parrish?” 

Adam elbowed him in the gut. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ronan inclined an eyebrow at him and sat up suddenly, the expanse of his back now visible to Adam. 

Ronan twisted sideways and reached for his upper back with one hand, fingers landing on what seemed to be angry, red scratches and a single deep bite mark. “I don’t need to, these are flattering me enough.” 

Adam sucked in a breath, face heating in mortification. He sat up, too, reaching for Ronan’s back and then dropping his hand before it made contact. “Shit. I didn’t mean to—God. Sorry.” 

“Parrish, relax,” Ronan said, all smugness abruptly gone from his face. “I don’t mind.”

“They didn’t hurt too much, did they?” Adam asked, expression pinched. The marks didn’t seem too bad and it’s not like they didn’t get a little rough sometimes, but he needed to make sure.

“No, dumbass. It was good. You can bite and scratch away to your heart’s desire. Anytime you fucking want. Seriously.” 

“Okay, Lynch, I get it,” Adam said, smiling despite himself. 

“You better.”

Adam shifted backwards a bit and then touched Ronan’s back, fingertips gently tracing over the marks he’d left. On a whim, Adam bent his head and kissed the bite mark on his shoulder, right on the edge of a wing. Ronan exhaled and bowed his head, and Adam dragged his lips over to the various scratches, leaving the barest whisper of kisses. Then he got carried away, as he always did with Ronan, and sloppily kissed up Ronan’s neck, arms coming to wrap around his waist from behind him as Adam stood up on his knees. 

Ronan craned his neck at an awkward angle to try to kiss Adam’s lips. But Adam broke away and moved forward so he could straddle Ronan’s lap.

Ronan reached for him, but Adam pushed at his chest with just enough force that he fell back onto the bed, looking up at Adam in surprise. 

Adam picked up the lube bottle from beside him. “Ready to go again?”

As Adam was riding him, Ronan’s eyes were wide and rapt on him.

Adam lost himself in the rhythm, though, everything else disappearing, which is why he wasn’t able to stop it. He wasn’t able to kiss him in time or put his fingers into Ronan’s mouth or flip them over as a distraction. 

“Jesus, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Ronan gasped, helplessly, so full of feeling, and Adam’s movements stuttered before resuming again, shattered and held together all at once. 

When they were sprawled next to each other and catching their breaths yet again, Adam spoke up, voice hazy and weak. “When’s Gansey coming back?”

“Dunno. Late.” 

Adam tried to gather his bearings, eyes drooping shut from tiredness. Parts of their arms and legs were touching, just barely.

Carried by some unknown impulse, Adam shifted so that his head was laying on Ronan’s chest. 

Ronan was motionless underneath him. Adam’s hearing ear was pressed against Ronan’s quickening heartbeat, and he couldn’t hear it, but he could feel the vibrations. For once, he didn’t mind the silence engulfing him, trusting that Ronan would nudge him if he really needed to tell him something. 

Adam further adjusted himself so that their legs were entwined, and his left hand rested on Ronan’s chest. Adam sighed in contentment, reveling in Ronan’s warm body around him. 

It was strange to think about, but in all the time they’d been doing this, they had never really… _cuddled_ after sex. Not in a real, intentional way. Not like this, where their bodies were tangled together completely and Ronan’s hand hesitantly started stroking Adam’s hair.

Adam closed his eyes, the feeling of Ronan’s fingers combing through his strands instantly addicting. His other hand splayed out on Adam’s back, tracing nonsensical patterns on his skin. 

He leaned into Ronan’s chest further and placed a kiss right above his heart. Adam inhaled deeply, never getting enough of the unique smell of moss and sweat that emanated off Ronan. 

Adam didn’t know if he’d accidentally dozed off, but when he opened his eyes again Ronan had stopped petting his hair. 

Adam nudged him with his foot and lifted his head a little so he could hear Ronan. “Why’d you stop?” Adam whined. 

“Stop what?”

“Doing the thing with my hair.”

Ronan snorted at Adam’s eloquence. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Keep doin’ it,” Adam insisted, voice laced with Henrietta and drowsiness. “Feels good.” 

“Bossy,” Ronan said, but soon his hand was back in Adam’s hair. 

Minutes passed just like that. Then, in addition to his fingers, Ronan’s lips brushed the top of Adam’s head, and Adam turned his face upwards into it, lids shut, silently inviting Ronan to kiss his forehead.

When his eyes fluttered open, Ronan was so close, and with only a slight tilt of Adam’s head, they were staring into each other’s eyes. Ronan’s hand trailed down from Adam’s hair to his temple to his cheekbone, a wrinkle between his brow as he looked at Adam. 

Adam felt like he should say something, like there were words forming somewhere in this timeless space they were in, but he didn’t know what those words were. 

“It’s getting late,” Adam said instead, voice low. “I should probably get going.”

Adam waited, hoping, praying, wanting something nameless and formless.

Ronan had asked him to stay the night that first time and Adam had declined, and since then he hadn’t asked again. He hadn’t stayed over at Adam’s either, something he used to do regularly _before_. If Adam lingered on that thought, he could probably analyze and take it apart until it morphed into a concern, but as it was, he brushed it away every time it crossed his mind. 

It was smart to leave as soon as their hungers were satiated, and Adam was sure it was some unspoken rule of casual hookups. But Adam had never been smart when it came to Ronan. If he was, they wouldn’t be doing any of this at all. 

The want started to take form. The shape of something forbidden and wonderful. 

_Ask me to stay_ , Adam thought. _Just ask me to stay again._

He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to go home to his own bed where there was no one else with him. 

Ronan held him tighter for a small moment, and Adam’s heart thudded with possibility, but he released him just as quickly.

“Okay,” Ronan said, emotionless. 

So Adam got up quickly and extracted himself from the other man, anger and hurt suddenly upsetting his previously serene mood for no rational reason. He got dressed silently and didn’t bother to say goodbye when he left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verse top Adam who requires an enormous amount of trust and vulnerability to bottom is a hill I will die on thx. I feel like this chapter is really boring and repetitive, sorry lmao. It’s mostly a filler chapter and somehow… it’s the longest one yet. The next one will probably take a while to write too, but if you're familiar with Friends, the episode where Rachel spills that Monica said Chandler is the best sex she's ever had while Chandler is sitting right there? Mayhaps that'll be in it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if possible <3 Sorry I didn't reply to most of the comments on the last chapter, I'll try to do better this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always super appreciated. Find me on tumblr @adamparrush and twitter @bisexualdeepika.


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